What if it wasn’t a charming quirk?What if there was no such thing as an adorable delusion?
What if it was real?
What if Rosemary was one of the birds in the Refuge, forever vulnerable to sharp beaks and sharp talons that were strong enough to crush bones?
The remaining sports drink in her belly roiled and threatened to reappear.
Her heartbeat filled her ears as the world unfroze and the crowd moved toward the open field.They were eager for the flight demonstration.Corinthia, on the other hand, no longer wanted to see a perfect avian killing machine on the wing.She backed up and stumbled off the raised edge of the pavilion floor.
She had to get away.To get somewhere else.
To get…
To Rosemary.
Yes, that was what she must do.Corinthia would talk to her.She would convince Rosemary to never become a bird again.To stay human.To stay safe forever.There were hawks and owls out there, she would say.You have to be safe.
I will keep you safe.
But what if Rosemary would not agree?
Corinthia made it to the sidewalk along the road that separated the high school from the library and environmental center complex.
She stopped, unable to process the cars flying past, unable to gauge when to cross.None of it made sense.So she simply stood, body unmoving, thoughts racing.
In all the stories, she knew, if you stole a swan maiden’s clothing, she could no longer transform.Rosemary herself had said it:I must always keep this with me, she had said,or else I cannot change form.
So many pretty outfits.So many happy memories.The fluttery dress on the day they met.The pantsuit with the jeweled buckle on Halloween.Pajamas when she fell in the pond, a sarong on the night in the green cottage, a prom dress at the concert where they danced.Each a work of art like Rosemary herself, inextricable from her one-of-a-kind nature.
And all Corinthia had to do—
Take the silks.Take the gems.
Hide them.
And Rosemary would be human forever.
Corinthia could contrive something, she knew.And then: safety.No more fear of hawks.
No more flying.
And as she imagined her hands full of stolen silk, her palms pierced by the elegant gems in their metal settings, Corinthia closed her eyes in shame.
In her bag, back at the library, lay a gift-wrapped book, specially purchased.A gift to make it official, as Drew had said.A literary offer of love, carefully wrapped in shiny, colorful paper.
Alien Space Lesbians.
A story of two women from different worlds.
Corinthia had finally finished it.
She had been surprised by the ending.The space alien hadn’t moved to Earth; the human hadn’t moved to space.The human had not grounded her space captain beloved, had not forbidden her to ever venture again among the stars.The space captain had not dragged her human away from the only home she’d ever known.Instead, life went on as they traveled between their different worlds, loving each other dearly, orbiting each other rather than one particular star or another.
Because love isn’t fear, Corinthia realized.
Love is flying free.
She opened her eyes and found tears on her cheeks.
