sixth cycling trip

When Zoli isn’t with me I often stop by the side of the road to have a rest. I just lay on my back, stare at the clouds, and I think, what do I look like from the sky if I’m seen? I often feel as though the ground vanishes from underneath my feet, but instead of starting to fall suddenly the wind seizes me, and I flutter to and fro under the clouds. Once someone told me that I’m not human, and, I thought, it’s true: you are a fairy, a fairy.