She dreamed of Shade.
He was younger and so different from how she knew him, all smiles with bright, big eyes and white teeth. His thick brown hair ruffled in the breeze, and lush summer grass whipped against his ankles where he stood higher up on the slope of a hill.
“Now you’ve gotten it in your hair,” he laughed at her, and looking down at herself, she saw that he was right. Grass clippings clung to her bare legs, littered the front of her sundress, and had clumped in the billowing ends of her long, mousy-blond hair. She was a dirty, disheveled child and delighted with herself for having just rolled down a very bumpy hill.
She beamed up at him.
In the distance, a wind chime clattered its soft song, a sound like pearls hitting bamboo.
“I want to make shadows!” She lunged for him, full-bodied and shrieking as he caught her in the air. They collided like two planets pulled by gravity. It felt like a heavy thing. But he took the brunt her weight, stood against her without toppling. His arms were sinewy but strong. Though they were children, he was nearly four years older. “Can we chase the sun?” she pleaded. “Can we, before it’s gone?”
He bowed his head. He sighed. He bent around her, shoulders flexing. His wings unfurled like the sound of a thick sail cracking. They spread impossibly wide, dark and leathery, but full of blood and life.
Wind whooshed around them but it was no cool relief. The breeze was hot, a sigh of summer.
They were close to taking off.
His lips touched her ear. “Gigi, you are the sun,” he teased.
With a push, they were in the air. Shade’s wings beat the rhythm of their ascent. And the wind chime clattered gently in the distance.