The, ‘what if’

He always worried about failing.


“What if I fail?” He was nervous.


“What if you fail? what if you fail?”

My laugh was hearty.


He didn’t like being laughed at when he was being open,

I didn’t like when he didn’t open himself to being laughed at.


“You are failing, you’re failing right now!” I sarked.

His face crumpled.

“Because you fail to see that you may fly.”


His smiled was quixotic as he held my hand.



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