She wore the night on her feathers, but the sort of night that...

She wore the night on her feathers, but the sort of night that came with a half moon and a slight glow on the waters. She worried too much about her one broken feather, she knew this, but sometimes knowing isn’t enough to stop the doing. She wondered if one day, one, the feather would fail and flying would become falling. Some, have absolutely no concept of the grace they so effortlessly carry.

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