aimedforthemoon

The little bird isn't painted, not yet, and the dying sun glints off the dull metal as Esfir sends her into flight.

(nine days)

She was right; she flies true and steady and the radio works, even here.

(nine days)

A short flight, because it's twilight now, and when she picks up the swan, she cradles it gently.

(nine days)

(it's still light)

(not yet)

"Would your - other - wife, like this?" She asks, still staring at the western sky.