Chiringa

Cheito carried his kite and string to the empty field behind the apartment building. The week before the field had been filled with carnival rides and people. Today it held only a few scraps of trash and matted down weeds. He carefully checked the wind direction and the power lines. He lifted his kite and let it catch the wind. The string spooled out quickly in the stiff breeze. The kite carried higher and higher into the clear morning sky. He slowed the string and paid out the last couple of yards until he reached the bitter end. He held the stick the string was tied to and pumped it gently to bring the kite higher overhead. He watched the kite swimming in the sky for a couple of minutes, now a small speck in the blue, gripped the stick in his left hand, and with his right hand got his pocket knife, opened it with his teeth, and cut the line, letting the wind carry the kite away, high over the waking city.

Jose M. Caldas, September 30, 2013.