Against the bleeding sunset the adamant kite fluttered in mid air, tore through gusts of evening breeze with its fragile body, trembling now in the cold air. This striking piece of multicoloured pride, the loss of which was missed for the duration of a frown, and then forgotten.
The setting sun seemed to twirl in and out of focus, at this hundred feet above ground. The kite swore it’s getting nearer, much nearer than it had been before. And it let out a silent gasp of rejoice.
Yet the warmth of the sun, as certain as it was just moments before, now swiftly dwindled as its rays fell short of the hills not far away. The sudden swelling of its magnificent body were comparable only to its rapid descent. The kite watched in despair. Its body, just now bathed in a glistening coat of golden bliss, was reduced to a collection of muted tones.
On its own descent, the kite began to dream of sunny afternoons, birds chirping on treetops and the distance squeals of children in the playground. This formerly striking piece of multicoloured waste, of which presence will now join an assortment of rotting twigs, rusting cans and other forgotten items, down on the ground, where it rightfully belong.
