It wasn’t evolution or technology that finally led to humans
flying. It was fitness. It had been possible all along, someone just needed to
put in the hard yards and work at it. As with birds, it all came down to power and
weight, get the ratio right and you can soar like Icarus. A lanky guy called
Sage figured it out. He measured and weighed himself, crunched a few numbers
and saw a chance of what might be. He trained for eight years until he first
took off. He had built himself stick thin but strong. And he could fly.
It
was the new, new thing. Like pilates, boot camp and hot room yoga before it,
everyone decided they must, no, needed train at Sage’s feet. To fly like him.
To sculpt their bodies into a temple of his design.
It
was a new measure of wealth, of prosperity. Just out for a fly with the
family, oh yes my daughter was flying when she was only eight, of course she
took off a few times before then.
It became another reason for the poor, the old, the fat and the odd to hate themselves. They would never fly.
It became another reason for the poor, the old, the fat and the odd to hate themselves. They would never fly.
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