The paper airplane never landed where we pointed to. Submitting it’s course to the whims of unseen drafts and some laws of aerodynamics that we could not calculate, no matter how crisply we creased its paper folds and sculpted its wing tips we ever failed to account for some slight shift in balance that rerouted our efforts for naught.

And how, I wondered, could I have ever presumed my own path lay in the hands of my design, when no matter how carefully a balance set could be redirected, as I swiftly learned to realign myself with the wind, or be capsized by its force.