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I remember that cool September day, Missouri 1905. I was reading about the wright brothers The first men to ever fly. Interesting, yes But father's laughter intrigued me more. He hadn't laughed since mother died in 1894. I went down to see why father laughed so loudly. And there you were, sitting across father drinking tea. I felt my cheeks grow hot when you turned and saw me. No! I thought to myself. You are a man, so am I. I sat at my usual spot and father served me tea. He had told me you were looking for work, That you'd come all the way from New Orleans. And so the next day you were put to work, helped me tend to the horses while I tried to focus on loving dear Jenny  but you had stolen my heart from me. Every time you'd laugh, I always stuttered. Whenever we brushed shoulders my heart fluttered I sat by my bed and called upon the Lord, told him about the strange feelings I had. I asked him if loving you Was truly a thing that was bad. The day you saved the cattle from a fire in the barn and saved my Daddy's little farm, I knew I had to tell you. So I found you at dusk by the south fence, where the cicadas never shut up, and the sun set in it's usual place behind the pretty green hills. I said your name like you'd disappear at any moment. You looked up, smiling, and the world felt cruel for saying I can't love you. I told you how I felt. I told you I was not confused. I told you I had tried prayer, and poor Jenny, and working away until my hands bled. Nothing took you out of me. You did not laugh. You did not step back. You just listened, As if my love for you wasn't forbidden. When you finally spoke, you said my name the same way I had said yours. Then you leaned closer, and I realized what it was like when those wright brothers had taken flight.
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Jan 21
Jan 21, 2026 at 10:47 PM UTC
To Take Flight
I remember that cool September day, Missouri 1905. I was reading about the wright brothers The first men to ever fly. Interesting, yes But father's laughter intrigued me more. He hadn't laughed since mother died in 1894. I went down to see why father laughed so loudly. And there you were, sitting across father drinking tea. I felt my cheeks grow hot when you turned and saw me. No! I thought to myself. You are a man, so am I. I sat at my usual spot and father served me tea. He had told me you were looking for work, That you'd come all the way from New Orleans. And so the next day you were put to work, helped me tend to the horses while I tried to focus on loving dear Jenny  but you had stolen my heart from me. Every time you'd laugh, I always stuttered. Whenever we brushed shoulders my heart fluttered I sat by my bed and called upon the Lord, told him about the strange feelings I had. I asked him if loving you Was truly a thing that was bad. The day you saved the cattle from a fire in the barn and saved my Daddy's little farm, I knew I had to tell you. So I found you at dusk by the south fence, where the cicadas never shut up, and the sun set in it's usual place behind the pretty green hills. I said your name like you'd disappear at any moment. You looked up, smiling, and the world felt cruel for saying I can't love you. I told you how I felt. I told you I was not confused. I told you I had tried prayer, and poor Jenny, and working away until my hands bled. Nothing took you out of me. You did not laugh. You did not step back. You just listened, As if my love for you wasn't forbidden. When you finally spoke, you said my name the same way I had said yours. Then you leaned closer, and I realized what it was like when those wright brothers had taken flight.
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Jan 21
Jan 21, 2026 at 10:47 PM UTC
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