6 Feet Short of Sane.

Chapter 4: Flying

Amit led me out of the room, taking me to a place that looked like a courtyard.

“We are going to practise your flying here." He explained. A thought suddenly crossed my mind.

“Hey, if you remove all the feathers on an Angel’s wings, do they become bald and hairless like a chicken?”

“Oh God.”

“Then that means you guys are related, and then we can slay you and Cluck the Thug together!” I squealed excitedly, clapping my hands in glee.

“Your brain seriously has no screws.”

“Screws?” I asked, confused. He rolled his eyes, picking up a stick and drawing in the sand.

“This,” He said pointing to something that looked like a shriveled up grape. “Is your brain.” He finished. I frowned.

“Is that a general description or….” I trailed off.

He sighed. “Nope. This only applies to you.” He grunted.

I pouted, thinking of all the names I could call him, featherless chicken was top of that list. Then I realised something, making me snort.

“What?”

“You said nope.”

“So?”

“Angels are supposed to have formal English, aren’t they?”

He gave me a deadpan look. “I’m from earth.”

“Oh yeah. We’re hybrid twins!”

He gave me a disgusted look. “Yeah, no.”

“So the brain.” I said.

“Now, the brain is held together by fundamental screws, six of them.” He explained like he was taking to a child.

“Who is the lunatic that gave you that messed up theory. Except you’re saying that The Most high made us cyborgs, then that is a load of rubbish.”

“Wha- you- whatever, pay attention.” He grumbled. I rolled my eyes. “Now, some people have all six, others four, two, one.”

“How many do I have.” I drawled.

“None.” He stated dryly, not even flinching.

“What?! That means my brain is held together by nothing and is floating around endlessly in my body? What if gets in the wrong place and I accidentally poop in out?!” I cried helplessly.

“My father who art in heaven.” Amit groaned in frustration.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re seriously dumber than I thought.” He deadpanned.

I huffed. “I’m the descendant of Einstain.” I stated proudly.

He looked confused for a moment before realization and slight shock filled his features. “Wait, do you mean, Einstein?” He asked incredulously.

“Yeah, that’s it.” I said. His only response was to scrub his hand down his face, groaning loudly.

“Let’s just handle the flying okay, try not to get hurt please.” He begged. I rolled my eyes.

“Please,” I said with a swat of my hand. “I’m the best flyer out there.”

“Really?” He asked sarcastically, raising his brow.

“Yeah, I’ve flown lots of times.” I boasted. “In fact, I was first loads of times.”

“Oh, is that so?”