Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
Fly or DieFramed against the rising sun, the dark figure stretched his arms upward, shaking the dew off of his body. He was clothed in coarse pieces of fabric which were damp from the wet grass, and his hair was dark brown and matted in places. He rolled his shoulders gently, shaking one and then the other. As he worked the muscles of his back, the snow white wings wrapped around his body slowly unfurled, sending minute droplets of water sparkling into the air. He continued to stretch, wiggling the wings on his back to test their strength.
Satisfied with the feeling in his back, he took a few steps forward and perched himself on the edge of the sloping hill. The sun was inching up behind him; the light filtered through the hazy morning air and wrapped itself around the man. As if on some sort of schedule, the man paused a moment on the edge of the hill, his shadow steadily lengthening in front of him.
Without warning he stepped forward, falling downwards for a second before flapping his wings and pulling himself back into the air. With surprising power he climbed higher into the sky and sailed away from the ball of fire rising behind him.
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