Harris Burdick Story

It was a perfect lift-off. From my frosted glass window I gazed out into the night. The subtle coating of snow on the firs blew off in a blinding blast. A tiny snowstorm began beneath the old Victorian. I watched the towering street lights as they turned into tiny glowing orbs below me, becoming twinkling fireflies. I stood up from my window perch, feeling the ground rumble beneath my woolen socks. I lost my balance, toppling to the ground in a heap of giggles and shock at what was happening around me. I shot up and ran to my bed, gripping the wire frame to maintain my balance. My town turned into a tiny speck below me as I floated above the earth like a king. Regaining my bearings, I ran back to my window, staring at the figures below that gazed at me in disbelief. I would surely be the talk of my town. I floated to the next town over, the Christmas lights flickering as if to welcome me and my flying house. 

My eyes shot open from my dream as my body inched toward the edge of my wire-framed bed. I was completely awake, not even groggy from my deep slumber. I ran downstairs and past the smell of sizzling bacon which I hardly ever resisted. I flung my red oak door open, a swift slap of cool air hitting my face and turning my cheeks red. My home was secure on its foundation, the neighbors were merrily walking their dog, their shoes tapping on the sidewalk. They smiled and waved at me. I shut the door with a quiet thud, sluggishly walking back upstairs to my bed. I laid down and closed my eyes, hoping for another perfect lift-off.