A light feather floated in the air.
Like an arrow, like a signpost.
You push off and follow it — first straight, then a turn.
Not too fast.
But suddenly you realize — you’re alone.

Alone, like an angel with wings, soaring through city streets.
And no longer bitter tears — but tears of joy, knocked loose by the wind, run down your cheeks.

A happy mother meets you at the doorstep.
And Dad stands in a confident pose, arms folded across his chest… and wipes away a tear of pride.
“Yes! Astrena was right — everyone cries.”
And the feather… will stay with you forever.

Fairy tale: “Boys Don’t Cry?”
— Modern World of Angels