The Flying Man: A Short Story

The Flying Man: A Short Story

Man is condemned to the ground. Forever and always.

If you ask me what a pilot is, I’ll tell you a pilot is a man who strapped wings to his cradle. If you ask me what a gunslinger is, I’ll tell you that he’s a man with weak fists. If you ask me what a computer programmer is, I’ll tell you he is enslaved to the light bulb. I am Trevor McCarthy. I am strong, I am smart.
I can hunt better with my hands than most folk can with a gun and I start my own fires. I cook my own meat. My feet are cut and bloody and my hands are rough and calloused. I am the perfect figure of mankind and the ideals he should uphold. I maintain that to find the limits of the human body, you must find the limits of our universe. When you put a man and a woman together, you have all the earths’ weaknesses and strengths. A man cut but not bloody, a ripped body that isn’t hurt, this man is only denying mans’ nature. A mind buried in the social morays of the city is a mind squandered.
There is a cliff near my camp. This is where I shall test my limits tomorrow. Tomorrow, I shall defy nature and do what every man has ever dreamed of doing.
There is a field near here; I refer to it as the devil’s courtyard. I call it that because it’s the high dirt, keeping me tethered to the ground. Every day, when the sun is at its highest, I will run here… then with nothing but my human-strength, I will jump. I will feel the wind, brushing against my back and I will be lifted into the air. Every day, I let myself be set down gently, knowing I’m that much closer to my goal.
I cannot die, Man dies because we let ourselves age.
Tomorrow, when the wind is right and the sun is at its highest, I will run as I’ve always done. I will run through the path that I’ve created and I will jump at the mark that I’ve created. Then I will overcome the fears that I’ve always had. Should I have fear tomorrow, I will fall and I will die and I will have no one to blame but myself. My body is a church. My body is a temple.
I worship the human body for without it, we do not live and man only thrives off nature because we cannot see our own capacity. Laughter and tears plague us; emotion is the sickness that drives us away from greatness.
Yesterday, I saw a deer in the forest. Not a fawn or a doe, this was a man-deer. I was overcome by the sickness that plagues our soul. This was a damaged creature and among the trees, it was lying down. It had a wound, upon closer inspection, it was a bullet wound. A hunter had come by. How I missed hunter tracks in these woods, I’ll never be sure but this is not the issue. The sad thing is that I did not kill it. I hesitated and I left falling asleep hungry. This means I was still weak. I went back today. I killed it like I should have done before. I fed on it. I think I’ve overcome my weaknesses. This is why, tomorrow, I will fly. I will fly because I’ve overcome any weakness that man has ever come across. I’ve defeated fear, I’ve defeated sickness, I’ve defeated laziness and I’ve defeated love. Love was the most difficult, but I’ve also defeated heartsickness and I’ve defeated sympathy, I’ve defeated sexuality and I’ve defeated hunger, I’ve defeated vanity.
Tomorrow, I will jump from that cliff and should I plummet, I will die. Should I fly, I will have become the perfect man; I will have become the man who could fly without wings.
Tomorrow, should I plummet; I will be assured in the fact that everything that I believe is wrong. This is my conviction. This is my leap of faith and I will fly or I will die. I will always love the human body, but I can never sleep soundly until I know that the human body has no limits. Man is capable of everything.
But for tonight, I will sleep. Tonight, I must defeat fear and anticipation one more time.
I have to know that nature is conquerable. Should I die tomorrow, tell Samantha I am sorry.