In the distant sky, I see a kite. A kite, frolicking in the sky. She’s a pretty bird, that kite, reflecting rainbow-coloured dreams in her too long tail. I scan the horizon, but am unable to see who is flying the bird-kite. Later I would reach an open field. And I would see the bird-kite hanging limp, draped over a branch. On the branch of a tree, the bird-kite lays lifeless.
I didn’t do it.