Jules

by Mercedes Yardley

The little girl was born with wings. She yawned and stretched them, still wet. The feathers were long and white and beautiful. “That,” said her exhausted mother, “explains a lot.” She eyed her husband. “Good luck with everything, baby,” she said, and promptly died.

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Mercedes Yardley believes that everybody is born with wings. Seeing them is all a matter of perspective.