In time, flying lost its appeal. Sure, soaring above the clouds under my own power- shooting between destinations at speeds unheard of was always a thrill. Flying, not in a plane but on my own, was a gift that no other being possessed.
But I found myself daydreaming of walking. Placing one foot in front of the other as I stroll slowly down the street. Dodging other walkers, waiting for the WALK sign, feeling the pinch of uncomfortable shoes – these thoughts began to fill my days.
Last night, I dreamed about walking so much I got a blister.
I orgasmed.