Magic.
Right.
I look at my hands.
“Magic,” I say experimentally, half-expecting something to happen.
Nothing does.
I try again, louder. “Magic?”
Think. Maybe there's a magic word to jump start it or something. "Abracadabra!" Nothing. "Hocus Pocus?" Nothing. "Open Sesame. Fuck. Hey Presto. Please? Please?"
Still nothing.
I glance to my right and cringe. There's a couple staring at me with the looks of utmost confusion, and I feel my face flushing. Fuck.
This is fantastic. Just wonderful. So I might have wings, but apparently no user manual. A car passes at the end of the alley, headlights sweeping briefly over me. I instinctively tuck my chin and pull my wings in—
My wings.
I glance over my shoulder. They’re gone again. Just… gone. Like they were never there. Did that couple see them? Oh my god, what is going on? “That’s normal,” I tell myself. “Totally normal.” I drag a hand down my face.
