I’m sitting in a classroom.

The desks are full of people — or rather “full of adults pretending they haven’t needed school in ages.” It’s break time, so everyone is standing, talking, laughing, gesturing… and enthusiastically blocking every single passage between the desks.

Then the teacher comes in. She’s holding some kind of contract she clearly wants to hand me, but the crowd is impenetrable. Not that it bothers her in the slightest — she simply rises above the whole cluster of people, as if she does it every day between breakfast and the first bell, and heads straight toward me.

And that’s when it hits me: I can do that too.

I lift off the ground and fly to meet her. No running start, no wind in my hair, no fanfare. I just fly.

Everyone watches with complete indifference, as if I had simply moved to a different desk. The teacher doesn’t bat an eye. Cool, professional, strict — apparently she has a whole bulletin board full of flying students. We all stay silent, pretending flying is just a completely normal traffic situation.

And suddenly, my newly discovered ability feels absolutely pointless.

Later, a colleague comes up to me and suggests grabbing a coffee. I say yes. But then I remember that I’d already arranged something with my sister for that time. And I’m stuck. I… don’t particularly care about either plan. But I want to please both of them. I want to be “the one who doesn’t disappoint.” And right in that moment, the familiar pressure stirs inside me — that loyal old stress, following me like a dog that never gets tired.

It was a small, everyday kind of flying dream. No grand acrobatics, more like a quiet little “I’ll float up when no one’s watching.” Maybe it’s a reminder that we should allow ourselves to fly even when the people around us are focused on anything but our aerial abilities.

Flying is a fragile thing. A moment of distraction and you’re standing firmly in the routine of daily life again.

So I hope we all manage to fly just a little more. And if nothing else, then at least skimming just above the ground — where it’s still safe to land in case of emergency :D)