Saturday 18 June 2022

'Soar' by Kim Steutermann Rogers

She was meant to be an albatross, traveling across the Pacific Ocean on a single flap of her six-and-a-half foot wings, winging by countries of Japan and Russia and the entire continent of North America, noting each by its signature scent—fresh snow, burning diesel, hints of soy sauce, salmon, and spicy chili peppers. She would drop her spatula-sized landing gear on the great expanse of the largest ocean in the world and use her four-inch serrated bill to nosh on buffets of flying fish and surfacing squid.

She was meant to be an albatross, soaring up and over ocean waves on downy feathers of hope and dreams. She would be created with a kind of built-in GPS encouraging her to explore, giving her confidence to know where she was at all times, and the ability to always find her way home.

She was meant to be an albatross. But she was a good girl. She wore good girl like a Bible, landlocked, the scent of hot pavement during a suburban summer a reminder of her expected place in life. Nights after the kids were fed, after their bedtime stories were read, and after she kissed her beautiful daughters’ foreheads and sang them to sleep, she would venture outside during blizzards and thunderstorms and all the nights in between and watch the moon through its monthly phases, noting the arc of Polaris across the sky and wonder what it really means to soar.

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