There are Wings and There are Wings

“Write a passage on ‘Wings’. Hope, freedom, spirituality. Flying is the aspiration of the soul towards a loftier human condition.” His English professor gushed. She had the remarkable ability to pin her students under a microscope to see the inner workings of their brains.                                                                                                                                                                        
The girls in Col’s college class oohed and aahed into senseless giggles. They wrote about what Col referred to as the “fluffy stuff of gossamer wings shining like rainbows.”

One shrewd soul thought about the wings on a military uniform. Definitely having an eye for the camera obscura with his ability to see darkened objects and what others could not observe. Dramatical opening read, “The wings insignia not only showed his special training, but that he was above criticism. The hero’s wings were once the envy, yet pity of his fellow officers.  As a World War II Royal Marine he was a dying breed….”

Another student staring at pristine paper chased after creative thoughts like an entomologist with a torn butterfly net. He toyed agonizingly with the idea of writing about the gracious wings of a mansion, the slow graceful bird in flight, or a streamlined silver bullet of a plane. 

Col wrote about chicken wings. 

He hoped that his teacher would not think that he was mocking the assignment and, by association, her.  

He began, “Entering the Chuck-a-Bucket restaurant, the bell over the door welcomed me like a brother. Standing in a queue was always full of promise and anticipation. The tantalizing aroma of chicken wings evoked all of the five senses. Crisp skin, moist flavours and savoury sauce. Sweet and spicy, an indulgent treat to overpower the nostrils and make you giddy for a taste. Ordering the food, I entered a new dimension where only the good at heart were rewarded with such delicacies as chicken wings.”

A peri passing his desk read the last sentence. Previously, he had playfully mocked this beautiful graceful girl for writing about the soft delicate tissue of a fairy’s wings. She teasingly asked, “Now who is fantasizing?”

Col gallantly agreed, “Touché!”