Finch and Sunny were playmates from birth. However, as childhood connections and dreams begin to fade, Finch realizes that Sunny's friendship with him is not the only thing that is slipping away...
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My name is Finch, like the bird.
But I'm not a bird. I don't have feathers or wings, and I can't fly. I've dreamed of flying, though. Once, back when we were still close, Sunny and I laid side-by-side in the soft grass under the clear, blue sky and talked about flying.
I distinctly remember her hair was braided to the side and it toppled over her shoulder, into the bed of grass below us. A maple leaf had just fallen onto Sunny's striped sweater and she started spinning it around in her fingers.
"Would you fly if you could?" she suddenly asked.
"Maybe," I shrugged. "Why?"
"I would. I would fly far, far away and go on adventures where everything's better."
"I know you would," I chuckled. "But you're not a bird."
"Maybe I am!" Sunny giggled close by my ear.
"You don't have feathers or wings," I interjected.
She grew quiet for a moment and stared at me with her big, brown eyes. "Alright, then. I'll be the sun, Finch. I float up in the sky and watch everything down below. You're the bird that flies up to meet the sun."
"Icarus did that, not a finch..." I grinned, "and he died in the end."
Sunny's warm laugh rang out as she grabbed my hand. "Don't worry, Finch. That's just a story. We'll always be together."
