She looked around herself. At the clouds. The ground so far below. She stretched out an arm. Flexed her fingers and felt the wisps of cloud trailing between them. 'Cold,' she thought. 'And tingly...' She shivered a little. She hadn't realised how cold this would be. Reaching out, she traced the edge of another cloud. Then swooping, pirouetting, drawing lazy circles through the air, she flew. The sensation was unbelievable. The freedom. The beautiful feeling of detachment. She pulled to a stop and swirled on the spot, arms stretched out on either side. A feeling of warmth began to spread through her as she climbed, soaring, above the clouds. If she were someone else, she'd have whooped in delight.
For another moment, she stared longingly out the window. Then head bent, she continued to sketch.
(Found this lying in my drafts since October 2008. It was practically finished.)
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