This is my last flight. If I land once more, I will die. Luckily there's a breeze so I can conserve energy by gliding. My first three lands were.. oh man.. TOTALLY worth it. Let's start from the beginning.
I was diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic by a psychiatrist who hadn't even gotten their final grades yet. Yes, I did see demons, but I wasn't paranoid that's for damn sure. In fact, I loved my demons. I had a romance with my demons. They were there to help me in times of need. One day the demons wouldn't stop. They were in a bad mood and they kept taunting, laughing, and mocking me. I asked them to stop but they would not. Unless I... that's it - I've got it.
It took several steps but I finally sold my soul. Not to the devil, no. To my demons. They gave me the power to fly if they could haunt me when they wanted, and well beyond my death. I assumed I would die soon anyway so I took the deal, trying to make the most out of living while I still had time. I mean, I could lose my mind at any minute by this point.
I finally gained my ability to fly, but gaining the ability to fly is so free and adrenaline pumping. There had to be stipulations. Once I finally got off the ground for a period of time longer than the hang time of a jump, the demons appeared. They circled me and intimidated.
"We cannot allow you to fly with such freedom. You may only land thrice, and upon the fourth landing, you will be lost forever, haunted by us opposition until your soul ages to infinity."
The demons faded away and I was now in a bit of a rut. I have to land at SOME point. I made that time right now. That's one out of three. I didn't know what to do or where to go or what to explore. I could fly! I could go anywhere!
Strolling down the street with not a care in the world and not a fear in sight, I think of some ways I could profit off this. Busker? Vegas illusionist? Human airplane? Why not all of them?
I got up to fly for my second time. I keep thinking, 'Don't mess this up, you've only got this and one more flight.' I fly from Toronto to New York City. I stay close to the ground as to not land, and to also not draw attention to myself. Yet.
I hover into the middle of Times Square, sandwiched between a gigantic group of locals and tourists. I hover completely still until the light changes to green. It's time. Cars travelling in opposite directions advance slowly, trying to weave around me. I start to elevate. Cars are honking at a stand still while the many cabbies surrounding the intersection exit their car for a closer look. No, they are not dreaming. I really CAN fly! In the centre of the intersection I set an upside down hat, and the money came pouring in. 5s, 10s, 20s, even 50 dollar bills filled up the hat. Sooner than later I got bored of hovering and I declined down to inches off the ground, making sure to not land. I had acquired roughly $2500 in a mere matter of minutes. I count it while flying away from the square. The densely populated square was in complete silence as everyone sat on their knees, praying to me as I passed them. The only thing I could hear were the coin donations hitting the ground. I turned around as everyone kept their head down, and planted my feet. Landing number 2.
I better make these last two flights count - once I hit the ground for the 4th time, I'll be ready to go.