When trying to imitate flying I might try one of the following.

The world flickers like animation cells as your body slices through it. Your location in Space both concrete and ephemeral as you locate yourself in your seat on the swing-set or your feet on the edge of the diving board or your hands over your head, body soaring skyward from the spring of the trampoline.

"From its frightfully steep 53-degree first drop to multiple slamming turns and other assorted dives and hops, the fast-paced Cyclone perfectly illustrates the twister, while nearby, the Thunderbolt sits in forgotten loneliness and all other Coney classics have faded into memory."


A sensation between dancing and dying.


"This is why people OD on pills and jump from the Golden Gate Bridge."

A hovering of terrific proportions if you imagine that gasp, held tightly in your belly ready for you to emit as you plunge off the top of the lift hill. A sensation that engages all of your organs, from skin to eyeball and leaves you suspended until your feet return to ground.

During my second year of high school I experienced my first roller coaster. I had fallen very seriously for a boy that'd been a friend for several years. It would indicate a pattern I would maintain steadily for the rest of my life. The thrill and terror of that crush, as you look into the eyes of your true love, every day over slushies, but he doesn't have any sense of your devotion.

The plunge, the repel, the propel.

"Remember the first time we slept together? You said it felt like when you learned to float."

For one pregnant moment, as I lean backwards in a game of trust, I hope that the arms meant to receive me, don't fail me when I fall.

"Anything to feel weightless again."