Taking a Flyer

It began with a piece of paper – but no ordinary piece of paper, this – blown by wind and rain. It caught under an umbrella, one among thousands, on the drizzly damp streets of London one day. The umbrella’s owner was startled, and jostled and shoved by the crowd (those who walked the city, amidst grimness and grime, were impatient and gritty, and sometimes not always polite), but that didn’t really matter, as the strange piece of paper took hold, of umbrella, and holder, and all, and he slowly felt his footsteps leave the ground far behind…

…The crowd hardly noticed, just one of those things, to see a man with a brolly on the wind, taking wing – o’er the rooftops of London, but not London as is – more as was, as could be, as fancifully is. Gusted along in a weathersome daze, the city beneath changes, and the sky all around – and he finds himself looking on Old London Town: chimney sweeps dancing (as is their wont) to music sublime – a kind lady on the next brolly stops to give him the time. Stars, they are twinkling, as smoke fades to night – small figures are flying toward the first on the right. Winding old alleys and twisting old roofs, church spires and steeples, the soft beat of hooves. As he passes a window, he glimpses a light; the paper, redolent with curious smells (dragon’s breath, stardust, wizard’s inkwells), reads: Hero Wanted, Look Ye. Apply Immediately.

All in all, he reflects, unable to let go, it’s a jolly good thing – life starting to pale, don’cher know – Christmas always cancelled, and no chance of snow. Then the city, it fades, as the umbrella passes through to a different sky – and for some reason he doesn’t really stop, even to wonder why. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth or ask a cat why it grins, just take a deep breath and smile, as the adventure begins…