TIme ticked onwards. Once in a while he’d message her. He’d gotten out. Or been born out. They taunted their pets once in a while. But they had been so isolated for so many generations themselves, even they didn’t know their true purpose anymore. They thought they were sky angels. The very thought sickened her. More like terrified flying mice, desperate for something to stay grounded. Desperate for something they could still fly over and taunt.
Nothing grows wings, first, she typed into her phone, knowing he’d read it later. Nothing evolves with wings first. Even you came from somewhere. She put down her phone and put her sunglasses on. She knew the real sun would be releasing another plasma blast soon, As if mad at having created such ignorant children, she thought to herself.