Peter Pan Teaches Wendy to Fly (She Doesn’t Learn)
It’s midnight, and we’re kicking gravel in the neighborhood.
Next to me, he’s caught in a rhythm: head bobbing, fingers drumming, feet tapping to the bone-deep thrum of nearby rager music. An empty McDonald’s bag skitters across the road, dances with us before the wind whisks it past a row of parked cars.
Above us, the sky unfurls like a movie poster.




Photo credit: Diana Lixenberg


