She hesitated.

“Is that …?

“What?”

“The place? - where … you know?”

He paused,

“Could be, I suppose”

“But how?”

“Imagine, standing there - terrified”

She shivered …

“No, don't think about it”

“But we must - comply”

He walked to the edge, spread his arms and span hard into the air.

She hesitated.

“Is that …?”

“What?”

“The move? - that … you know?”

He landed - hard, unbalanced

“Can’t be”

“Why not?”

“Imagine, landing here - alone”

She shivered …

“Can’t think about it”

“Don’t think, just fly”

She walks unhesitatingly, spreads arms and leaps, tucks, rolls, flies towards golden entry.

We shivered, yet rose without hesitation acclaiming perfection. 

 

It’s late. Too quiet. They wait, watch, wonder from where victory will come. 

In the darkness a fox slinks through the hedgerows seeking easy prey; and still they wait. 

In the starlight an owl lifts into the air, patrolling field-lines. Still, they watch.

Then a murmur, a motion, a snapped twig, a brushed bush, a relaxing laugh - easy prey coming on.

Watchers emerge from shadows, lift from hedgerows, spring the trap and catch thin air. No comment, closing ranks, clever briefs, courts triumphant.

They’ll come again.

So still, they wait.