Peter was floating, his feet kicking freely six inches above the ground. He had always wanted to fly; and yet it felt so wrong now that it was real. It should have been invigorating to rid himself of the chains of gravity. But his stomach sank with worry. What if he could never land? What if he fell? What if… He rose another foot, and reached down, frantically grabbing Wendy’s hand. “Don’t let me float away,” he pleaded.
She smiled. “I won’t hold you down,” she said. He thought she might let go, but she didn’t. “I’m coming with you.”
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A revision, inspired by Ayn's comments:
Peter was floating, his feet kicking six inches above the ground. He had always wanted to fly, but the reality of it felt so wrong. He should have crowed with joy to free himself of gravity’s chains, but his stomach sank with worry. What if he could never land? What if he fell? What if… He shot up another foot, and reached down, frantically grabbing Wendy’s hand. “Don’t let me float away,” he pleaded.
She smiled. “I won’t hold you down.” He panicked, expecting her to let go, but she reached up with her other hand. “I’m coming with you.”
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