seeing blue by jane ahn
I experience my first stomach-drop at the age of four, tiny hands clinging tightly to chains, trying desperately not to fall off the seat of the swing. My dad cheers and claps his hands as I shriek, the swooping feeling of the swing unfamiliar but thrilling. Scared, I cry until he stops the swing, but as soon as he does, I demand to be pushed again. Up - I see light blue skies - down - the blur of the apartments leads to sand and - up - I see blue again.
edited by taylor gee | designed by maggie dawkins
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