The day I remembered How to fly

"I was in a parking lot behind a grocery store, arguing with someone about a shopping list, and then I just pushed off the ground with my toes like it was nothing. No big moment, no wings. I rose up slowly, and the weird part is I wasn't surprised, more like I'd remembered something I'd always known how to do. The feeling is hard to explain. My chest felt wide open, like when you laugh so hard you lose your breath, except it kept going. I drifted over rooftops and a school field where kids were playing, and a few of them looked up and one yelled "she's doing it again!" Again? I didn't question it. Then a jump, and I was over a lake that was too blue, almost cartoonish, skimming close enough that my fingers left lines in the water. My grandfather's old radio was playing somewhere, I swear, though there was nothing around for miles. I kept thinking I should tell someone about this, maybe my roommate, but I didn't want to land yet. Woke up with my arms stretched out on the pillow, grinning at the ceiling."