The Flight of the T-Rex

I know what you are thinking. T-Rex’s don’t have wings. And if they did they’d be a fireless dragon. But it was all she could think about. She yearned to fly.

Throughout the day, the thought would come to her. She’d spread her little arms and imagine soaring over the canopy with the pterodactyls.

Those darn pterodactyls. Always shoving it her face, doing loops overhead. She knew some of them on a first name basis. Gertrude in particular would stop by for a chat quite often. The conversation always made its way to flying.

“The gusts are low today. Good soaring weather.” Tia the T-Rex would posit. Gertrude would play along. She knew how much it meant to Tia, flying.

“Indeed it is.” Gertrude would agree. “If you catch a good draft you might soar all day!”

Tia would nod her huge head in agreement.

Tia did other things besides thinking about flying. She ate small animals, and worked on her wings. They were almost complete, although she fretted over how to put them on. She wanted to ask Gertrude, but was afraid of what she might think.

“That Tia is crazy.” They would say. “She is a T-Rex, they don’t fly!” Then they would all laugh at her expense. But she would show them.

Late one afternoon, she climbed to the top of a mountain with her complete set of wings. The air quality was good, great for a flight.

She stepped up to the edge, and looked down. It felt higher than she remembered, but she was determined. After managing to jockey her wings on, she took a deep breath, and lept.

…

“Tia was a kind soul. Always there for a chat.” Said Gertrude to the dinosaurs that had congregated to remember Tia’s life.

“She had some strange ideas, but who of us haven’t?” She chuckled. “I loved that T-Rex, so determined to fly. Well, she died in pursuit of a dream. We should all be so lucky. Let’s all spread our wings, to Tia.”