A COMPASS AND A MAGNET WALK INTO THE WOODS
The map flew away in a gust a few miles back. The sun set right on time, and the stars are pretty, but of no use when north doesn’t mean anything.
A lovely little fairy flits above my head always, swooping down now and then for a kiss and a hug and a popsicle or a peanut butter and jelly with no crust. She ate the crust twice, without complaint and with bravado, so that proves something to me in her opinion.
A handsome sparkling companion joins me for stretches, holding my hand, and offering smiles. He drifts off, but returns sometimes when I expect and sometimes when I don’t. Maybe he’s looking for his own map.
I’ll keep to a path, sleeping when I’m exhausted, eating when I’m starved, but moving moving moving when my legs can do the work.
There’s nothing else to do, so I do this, and remember to look up as much as I look down.
Looking down does me no good; flying is just a good hard fall interrupted by forgetting to land.