 Constant Vigilance! O_O AWAKE!
Winston blinked as Vindictus flew around in front of the class. Then he blinked again. They had to fly already? But, but...no, Winston could think of no excuse for them to put off the leaving-the-ground part. Merlin's pants. He was friends with the ground. What if the ground got offended? Winston had just convinced himself and the broom and the ground that he wasn't scared, but if he left the ground the ground would think he was scared of it, and running away.
Then again, if he hesitated too much, all of his classmates might think he was scared. And he couldn't have that. His da would hear of it.
Taking a deep breath, Winston went over the instructions in his head. Pick up feet. Lean forward to go forward twenty feet, then turn around and come back. Sit straight and pull the handle back a little to stop. He could do this. He could. It was all in his head. He knew the theory of how flying worked. Sort of. And if he knew the theory, he could do it just fine. No worries. Winston took a deep breath.
But what if he fell off?
No! Winston couldn't think of those what-ifs or he would never get off the ground. His da always said, 'what-ifs are for people who aren't impressive enough to be comfortable with the way things were already going.' Winston didn't need what-ifs. That's right. He took another deep breath, and lifted his left foot up and stretched his leg back until his toes just barely reached the stirrup thing. Quite off-balance, Winston quickly did the same with his right foot before he could think about how silly it was to pick up both your feet and rest them on something you were holding.
Winston let out a sudden sigh of relief. He was flying! Sure, he was barely off the ground, but he wasn't on the ground! Winston grinned and leaned forward--a bit toooo much. His broom sped forward several feet before he remembered to sit up straight. His broom jerkily stopped. Winston shuddered. That was scary. He leaned his head forward, then his shoulders, then his torso, ever so slightly. In fact, he looked as though he were still sitting straight, but he was in fact leaning forward. The broom did nothing.
Winston leaned forward a teeeensy bit more, and held that position. There! The broom was inching forward at the pace of a snail. Winston was okay with that. He gripped the handle tightly and tried to keep going straight for twenty feet. This was going to get boring rather quickly, though, so...Winston leaned forward more, until his broom was carrying him forward at about the same pace as a walking horse. When he thought he'd gone twentyish feet, Winston sat up straight again and hovered in place.
Now how did he turn? |