K is for kite.

You promised me a kite, whimsy released to the sky but tethered to my delicate hands so that I'd always have the simple joys of a tumultuous life at my beck and call. But like so many promises made, it caught on the wind as soon as it was made, and before I could secure its string it blew away to the ends of the earth. Now all I can do on the clear, windy days that we seem to so often enjoy is imagine what it might feel like to soar, in spite of unforgiving gravity.