The wind pulled at her, itís gusts buffeting her body time and time again. Her hair whipped round her face like a hissing head of serpents making her progress harder than ever.
She looked up, it seemed so far away, but then things always did to her, so many times in the past, promised days, special moments which at the time had seen so long in arriving to an inpatient female.
The wind picked up again almost making her fall, as she lost concentration, once more she looked ahead and started forward.
How many people in her past had told her "donít do that" and how many times had the stubborn streak made
her continue, only suffer for her own inflexibility.
Even today the words, of "youíll be sorry" and "youíll only get hurt if you do that" had been uttered to her, bouncing from her thoughts like the leaves which swirled and danced with the wind bounced from tree to tree.
Again she looked ahead, she would prove them all wrong this time, prove that she had been right all along.
A fresh gust of wind hit her almost making her lose her grip, slowly she put one foot in front making slow but steady movement forward. The next time she looked there it was, almost within her grasp, one last effort by the weakening wind and she was there.
He prize in hand she edged her way back to earth, it was her Kite, and no matter what people said she had recovered it from the tree. "Girls donít climb" she snorted, yes they do! And the kite was grasped in her hand as trophy to prove her point.
© Barry Eva November 2003
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