I rubbed my eyes hard, but she was still sitting there, staring off into the distance, seemingly unaware of my presence.
I slowly and silently moved closer and saw what looked like feathers on her shoulders and back. Surely she wasn’t a winged creature. The feathered wings must have been part of a costume that she was wearing.
I positioned myself standing directly in front of her, but she appeared not to see me. “Excuse me,” I said. “Are you okay?”
At first she was unresponsive, but then she finally looked up at me, as if emerging from a deep trance. She stood up to face me, a look of curiosity on her face, but she said nothing.
“Do you speak English?” I asked. She nodded affirmatively. “Why are you wearing those feathers on your back? Are you Native American or something?”
She put her forefinger in front of her lips and, without saying a word, slowly began to float just above the ground. Spreading her wings wide, she began flapping them, lifting her further into the air, and then, like a bird, she took flight and disappeared over the trees.
Was she real or was she just a daydream?
Written for this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt from Donna McNicol. Photo credit: Pixabay. Also for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (daydream).