Wings

The sky was devoid, as if even the stars had decided to get away. She stood on the edge of a concrete metaphor. The wind was strong from this height and it made her hair come alive as she looked straight out. Her face was tear stained and pale. She had scratches on her collarbones and rips in her jeans. She took a breath, and closed her eyes. She took a step and then looked her destiny head on. 

The wind contorted around her in risque acrobatics and she soared downward. Her eyes were still closed and her arms were out around her. Just as she was about to forget about everything, the wind gripped tight and out shot a pair of ebony wings which picked her up suddenly and lifted her comfortably to the ground. She landed on her feet, casting her shadow upon the moon.