The morning light burned my sensitive eyes. Singing birds seemed to elate my grogginess.

“Why does my back ache?” I whispered to myself as I got out of bed.

Suddenly, I felt a heaviness in my back.

A feather brushed me.

I screamed.

I stood up and looked in the mirror in pure horror.

I had grown a large pair of white-feathered wings.

“What on earth…” I said, my words stumbling in disbelief.

My wings stretched to the corners of my room.

A light breeze trickled through my window and brushed against my wings, speaking to me to fly.

I looked outside to find patterns of wind everywhere. The north wind was strong today; birds flew in chorus with it.

“Let’s see how these wings work.”

I climbed my roof and studied the north wind.

Then without a second thought, I jumped with my wings outstretched.

I hovered for a second before I flopped into the bushes below.

I swear I could hear birds chirping their laughter.