“Ugh… I can’t.”
He sank heavily onto a sun-warmed stone, spreading his legs and resting his long, sinewy arms upon them. His head drooped between his shoulders, his back rounded, letting the muscles stretch. Enormous wings hung loosely at his sides.
“Just need a moment to catch my breath.”
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
No thoughts came to his mind — except one: that never before had he been so utterly drained. The work was the same as always — no easier, no harder — yet the energy that once filled his veins now barely sufficed to keep him from collapsing. The realization made it even heavier. He covered his sweaty, dust-streaked face with his broad hands, then rubbed his temples.
“Everyone gets tired. I’ve done and still do everything I can, everything I know how to do — everything within my strength. I never take on what I cannot handle, and what I do, I do well. That’s why they ask more of me — and I manage. But today… I finished it all, everything worked out, only there was nothing left for myself.”
He lowered his hands again and lifted his face to the sun. Its warmth quickly dried the grime of sweat and dust from his skin.
“Yes! That’s better… just like that.”
He could feel the fatigue sinking into the earth while the light filled him anew. Another minute — and, spreading his wings wide, he stood. He walked to the edge of a cliff that overlooked a boundless, glittering sea, its turquoise waves foaming against the rocks below.
“Thank You, Lord!”
Stretching out his arms, he leaned forward; his wings unfolded.
In a flash, he plunged downward — the firm currents of air sweeping the dust and grains of exhaustion from his feathers and skin. The water drew nearer, its blue-green shimmer calling to him.
He stretched out his arms, pressed his wings close, and dove headlong into the cool, salty freshness that wrapped his body in thousands of tiny, tickling bubbles. With a strong sweep of his arms he burst from the seething surface — the sweat and dust gone, water streaming down his skin. The first beat of his wings scattered a million sparks, the second shook off the last drops, and the third blinded the air around him with the whiteness of cleansed feathers, lifting him high above the waves.
Again. And again. Higher and higher.
He soared toward the sun, at times skimming the water’s edge, then suddenly climbing straight into the zenith. He flew toward those who waited, hoped, and believed.
“I’ll do everything right! Sometimes you just have to rest.”
He would do it all — he simply needed a rest.