Macie pumped her little legs back and forth, back and forth, gaining momentum on her rusty, old swing set.
“Come on, higher!” She cried to the wind as it pushed along with her.
She imagined wings on her back, ready for takeoff as soon as the moment felt right.
With one big push, Macie brought her whole body forward, propelling the swing higher than she’d ever gotten before. A personal best.
She felt it then. The right moment.
Macie took a deep breath and let go of the chains.
The wind hadn’t lied.
She was flying.
Author’s Note: Whenever I tried this as a kid, I always ended up with scraped knees and pebble imprints in my palms.