*Earth Train*
She looks down. “I can’t do it, mama,” she whispers.
I turn to her. “It’s coming fast,” I reply. “All of your older sisters have done it, and they’re very happy on earth. The train is coming fast. Take your chance. You won’t get another.” 
“But mama, I love our cloud. I don’t want to leave it.”
“You can’t stay here. I won’t let you live like me.”
And with a last goodbye, I push her down to the train.

*Under Your Wing*
It’s weird, seeing things like I do. My brother and I fly together all the time, but he’s always leading me. When I was younger, I tried to lead. I thought I could navigate the treetops fine. My brother called the pink splashes of color “leaves,” and the slashes of white, “branches.” But when I tried to fly around them, the color splashes started moving. I couldn’t make it. I fell. My brother caught me. “Don’t worry, little owl,” he said. “I’ll lead you from now on.”