Flashback: Red Kite
When I was around 5 years old I lived in a town called Oak Ridges, which is just north of Richmond Hill, and is actually, just part of Richmond Hill… I think.
It is where the Oak Ridge Moraine lies (in shambles) and is a real small town kind of place. Like, if you think R.Hill is smalltown, this place is …smaller town.
Anyways, I only lived there for a few years. But I remember this one time my brother, my ‘cousin’ James, and I were flying kites in our front yard. I must’ve been 4 years old.
The kites were from my store. Cheap plastic kites. Those were always the best.
My brother’s one was totally dope. It had an army print and had like missiles printed on it on the under side. It was a real windy day and we just stood in our front yard with string only maybe 20 feet long. The kite whipped around, back and forth, only a dozen feet off the ground.
James let me have the string for a bit, but just a few seconds later, the thing hit the ground and the dowel snapped. I felt pretty bad about that. Because, again, the thing was army print with missiles. Fuckin’ dope.
So we went inside and put together my red kite and got it into the air. It was way high in the sky when the string snapped. It flew off higher and higher, and the three of us just looked up.
Then we scrambled. We got on our bicycles and went searching for it. I, ofcourse, had training wheels, and my search radius was limited to the circular block that our house was on. But I remember my brother and James disappearing in the distance as they went after it.
It was like an adventure to find this kite. And then we came across this Indian tribe who were sacrificing this woman, and we like, swung down on vines and totally kicked their asses with Ninja moves.
Alright, so the memory’s a little muddled. I thought it needed a bit of spice.
And now it’s 5:15 AM because I’m addicted to LOST.