THE ARCHIVES: Chapter 177

Paper Cranes

We walked past the art room,
where someone had hung
dozens of origami cranes
from the ceiling.
“That’s a fire hazard,” Gary said,
“but it’s one amazing fire hazard.”
We watched as the cranes seemed to hover
in midair—the strings holding them
nearly invisible.
The cranes were all different sizes, shapes,
and colors. A motley flock.
They reminded me of the widgets
Clay made in class. All unique
in their own obscure way.
The heating unit turned on,
blowing one crane down from the ceiling.
This one was made out of red crinkly paper.
Gary caught it before it fell.

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