Together they flew, in all their bright colors, streaming toward the inevitable cliff: leaping like deer. Their stride broke, almost at the edge. And then in a rush they strained against their clothes, against their own bodies, and broke free into flight. They burst into the air as silently as the beating of wings, like so many scattered leaves: each falling maiden with her skirts blossoming through the rush of air, opening like a fan as she flew toward the ocean below. Together they fell like a downpour of brightly colored rain, each petal suspended in air before drifting down to the crashing of the sea.

Auteur: Catherine Chung