# Off-Topic Discussion > Artists' Corner >  >  The Rose

## WakataDreamer

A rose spins, spins in the wind.

  The roaring wind.

  Ruby red petals of glowing warmth, green stem, hidden thorns.

  He sits here, a man, on top of the highest cliff in all the world.

  Three sheer drops on three sides.

  Where winds surge with such velocity that they say if an object is caught in them, it will be born aloft forever.

  Forever.

  A rose spinning in the wind… forever.

  The man is trying to illustrate a point.

  He says aloud, for all of the blades of grass to hear, that this rose is like love.

  It flits around, sometimes hanging around you for a while.

  Able for you to brush your fingers against, but always out of reach.

  The only way to get it is by jumping at it with all of your strength.

  And then you will get it.

  But there’s a good chance that in doing so you will lose your balance, misjudge your landing, and be blown off of the cliff by the same winds that keep love out of reach.

  The man stares at the rose, bobbing up and down in the open air, slightly left of solid ground, hovering on a continuous stream of surging wind.

  His look is grim.

  He looks determined.

  His face is haggard.

  Resolve echoes in his eyes.

  He plants his feet, braces himself, and runs. Takes a running start.

  He reaches the left edge of the precipice, and jumps.

  Soars.

  His fingers close around the rose. His momentum carries him dangerously forward.

  Too far forward.

  No…

  He shuts his eyes.

  Tim passes in slow motion.

  These winds can support a rose, but not a man. He is going to die. Surely he knows this, realized it before he even decided to jump.

  But… 

  He smiles.

  Smiles?

  He grips the rose tighter as he starts to fall. He plummets like a stone.

  He falls 10 feet. 15 feet. 30 feet. 70 feet. Gaining velocity. 120 feet. And there’s still 600 to go. 180 feet. 270 feet. 340. He’s hurtling now.

  And then… he stops.

  In midair.

  Like God just pushed the ‘Pause’ button on a video of his descent.

  He grins, flashing his teeth.

  And he flies.

  He flies, the rose in his hand.

  Clutched triumphantly.

  He flies, off into the clouds.




  He has won.










More "I'm-bored" randomness. Hope you like.

PS: MOAR

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