permission

I knew it would be big. It was the creak of ropes straining, hot air balloon rising, pegs pinging into the air. Fate bent down and curled her fingers, pinkie brushing my lobe.

“You can leave.”
Oh. My mouth makes the shape but no sound.
“They’ll be fine without you and you without them.
Oh. This time air escapes.

I didn’t write the whole time. Whenever I put pen to paper my eyes would well. I couldn’t say it. I guess I just did.