Hey, it's Micah. We're taking a break this week, so we're running some of our favorite

episodes from this season so far. We'll be back on October 9th with new episodes.

I'm Major Jackson, and this is The Slowdown.

Last night, I had another dream of flying. Like other nights, I hovered, just slightly above

the Earth's surface with not a care in the world before lifting off. My first dream of flying

occurred when I was 12 years old. I was smitten with a girl in my class, Ronda, who lived three

blocks over. I had talked to her four or five times on our way to school. She seemed shy, like me,

so I asked my friend Lloyd to include her in his next comic book. Lloyd drew superhero comics,

featuring himself and his two best friends, Calvin and me. We were his sidekicks with our own superpowers.

Every Friday, just before the final bell of the week, Mrs. Neesmith, our teacher,

had Lloyd stand before the class and read out loud his next episode.

Earlier that day, running up behind her, I told Ronda I asked Lloyd to include her as part of the

captains of truth. That afternoon, she beamed from across the room to hear herself as a character

and said, after class, that I could walk with her to school from now on. That evening, just before

falling asleep, I experienced the terrifying yet distinct sensation of rising and floating above

our street. I recall the houses and parked cars getting smaller, the familiar sight of a church

but now at eye level. I slowly flew in the direction of our house, but do not ever recall landing.

I subscribed to the notion of dreams as I was subconscious acting out wish fulfillment

or deeply embedded fears. But I also see dream flying as a form of emotional ascension,

like I experienced having made Ronda fill a little more scene. The speaker in today's

epistolary poem turns to the hummingbird as an avatar of their own wish to soar.

My dearest black-billed streamer tell by Michelle Whitaker.

...