Born

I drop from the sky incognito, fresh, new.

‘Hang on for a second,’ I say, ‘let me get my bearings.’

Looking around I take in the gentle river and the auto-vending mango trees.

A veeman rises silently from the low shining buildings over to my left accelerates across the cloudless sky and my eyes follow its course until it is obscured by a face with eyes as wise as diamonds.

I recognise my father and my arms, as if unbidden, stretch toward him and, with a smile, he reaches out and picks me up as I gurgle in happiness.

I’m home.

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