Winged and Forgotten
The hill overlooked a sprawling yet quaint town, much like any other one. There was a relatively large church near the center of it, built out of cold gray stones and filled with cold gray people.
The sun had yet to make an appearance in the frigid winter, but it was not spoken of. The inhabitants of this town were all in that church, some inwardly questioning everything they believed in, others trying to avoid those very thoughts. Still, they came. Without a thought.
All but one. She sat alone on the hill, among the fog and the low-sitting clouds, watching. The bell tolled as the morning’s church service let out, and a sad smile crossed her face. None looked up as they left the church. Those who desired to see something more didn’t dare do so in the company they kept. They never looked up- they never saw what they needed to.
There was no use. In one fluid motion she unfurled her wings and took off into the air. She rose, higher, higher, until she was close to the sun; And far from redemption.