I’ve always wanted to fly. This is why our baby is part-baby part-osprey.
But I didn’t want a bird-baby you say in the delivery room, confused when
she’s placed in your arms. It’s better this way I say. Her little human arms
stretch to your face as feathery wings flutter on her back. And we learn to
love her like that. There are lifestyle changes we make accordingly as she
grows up: custom-designed clothing, the pond out back stocked with fish,
child/bird-proof window locks—accommodations we’re happy to make.
It’s not until the bullying begins we start to worry. They say things like
no osplay allowed when she’s not picked for flag football or hey, flying is
forbirdden at recess. Who knew kids could be so cruel and clever. We try
migrating a few times, but the same keeps happening. Then one day she
just up and flies out a window at school. And never comes back. That’s
when we remember love is just death spelled backwards in a wind-up toy world.



A native Oregonian, Michaela Loewer lives just outside of Portland. She has a BA in English and German from Portland State University but uses her acquired German skills close to never. English, on the other hand, she puts to use by freelance writing. Michaela is a raging introvert who ironically loves people, hates it when people blow their nose in public, and has an irrational fear of sharks. A relatively new author, she has forthcoming poetry in scissors & spackle, Black Heart Magazine, and Souvenir.

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