GENRE: Contemporary Fantasy
Alex stared at his misshapen shadow. It was too big, broad out to the sides, confirmation of the things that had just burst from his body. As if responding to his fear, his brand-new wings wrapped around him in a soft, flexibly-feathery hug.
He startled backwards with a gasp and was suddenly airborne.
The ground shrank away. He screamed, aching where the wings had torn through like new teeth, and they reacted to his panic by disappearing. He fell like a rock.
He landed badly, crashing through the bushes and down the hill, completely out of control until he slammed into a tree. Pain throbbed in his leg, in his ribs, pounded behind his eyes. He managed one hysterical laugh. Had that just happened? With wings? Really?
There were no wings now.
But he could feel them. Furled inside somehow, quivering and ready. He laughed again, and this time it turned into a sob.
At least the leg would heal, probably in less than an hour. He'd always been a freak - but this was the first time it meant something he couldn't hide.
An hour later, he limped toward the hotel with plans to sneak through the kitchen. He'd healed, but he was still filthy. His shirt was in so many pieces he didn't know what to do with it besides ball it up and carry it in his fist.
He'd be in so much trouble if they caught him.