Then it found the thermal.
Mateo had always thought it was just a story. Now he wasn’t so sure. soaring condor
Only the wind. Only the waiting. Only the eternal, patient hunger for the rising sun. Then it found the thermal
He rose.
Mateo had seen condors before—distant, regal, circling their private thermals. But this one was different. It did not circle. It climbed. soaring condor