the day was good, but not for dying.
(my grandpa) batted his wings, checked their aerodynamics. he would look at flying while falling with optimism. falling while flying – with pesimism.. with clipped wings, it’s best to run on the ground. (the arrow on the enthusiasm measuring instrument would not move)
fortune or misfortune, it was irrelevant to borges; he could deal with both conditions (if they ever existed independently) my grandpa‘s life was threading on a thin trembling wire: it was there that he taught his body the proper way to WALK, the spirit of free FLIGHT. without any lessons of free FALL.