Featured in Farrago Magazine Edition Five 2026

I sat with Icarus sometime between the 1,812th and 1,857th iteration of the loop.

He was faced away from me, with his head turned towards the Sun. A painter had dusted his wings in the lightest shade of gold, and his hair was a glowing halo. A lush carpet of grass lay under us, as green as it had ever been and ever would be. I wished that I could have had this moment for just a second longer.

Icarus had been stuck, as it were. Displaced in time. A prophecy coming into fruition, doomed to endlessly cycle through flying and falling. 

This time would be no different. He was sitting here with me for now, but I could only hold his attention for a mere moment before his gaze turned back towards the rolling waves. In these moments, he seemed so close and yet so far from me. His eyes would cloud over, and his head would tilt to the side like he was listening to a secret only him and fate understood. 

He knew, of course, what his fate was. 

It whispered to him in low tones, and he always listened to its calls instead of mine. 

“Where do you go?”

What do you mean?

“Just a second ago you were… not here. I can tell. As if your mind flies to some other place but your body stays.” 

“What is it out there? What is so alluring you cannot even sit with me right now?”

He turned towards me with a smile that burned brighter than the Sun. His wings fluttered, alive for a split second before settling. I knew I was not going to like his answer.

I wish I could take you with me. Up there, the world becomes irrelevant. I can feel the wind rush over me like the birds do. Strong but also gentle like a mother’s touch. I am born anew in the clouds. As I soar higher and higher, I watch this ball of light grow and grow. You reach out like your fingertips can just graze the Sun. For a split second you can dare to reach for something greater than everything.

“But there is always the fall. That is a certainty. Surely, the feeling of the Sun cannot feel that good. This cannot be worth what follows!”

And then the wind roars in your ears as your shoulders are wrenched back from a combination of inertia and fate. The feathers and wax come free and dance finer than any maiden I’ve seen. The winds embrace me at speeds only possible from such great heights. There is freedom in flying, the same way there is freedom in falling. 

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When the sun was at its highest peak, Icarus would always leave my side. As he stood, for a second, I wondered if he might look back at me. But every time, without even a whisper, he would be in the air. His wings beat faster and faster as he hurtled towards the sun at an incredible speed.

This was always the best part. When the sun hit his skin just so and it looked like he was glowing from within. The Earth watched, jealous of the pull of the sky. Gravity did not seem to bind him to walk the Earth like the rest of us. 

Icarus always reached his highest point with his arms fully extended out. Grasping desperately, he laughed as the rays spilled out from his fingers. With one final flap of his wings, he let himself go lax. 

The fall was not immediate. In a moment, he will be hurtling into the sea. In a moment, inertia will contort his bones into impossible shapes. In a moment, Icarus’ body breaking the sound barrier will be drowned out by my screams towards a cruel God.

But in that one, he remained suspended in the air. In that moment, Icarus embraced the Sun like a child welcoming a mother home.