The Pentagonal Kite

is worth every dime it takes. High-tech, high-gloss, high-frontier, it dares and out-dazzles anything in the air. A lean white Atlas of a body. Steel wings like a sparrow hawk, swept back. The narrow tight-slit painted eyes above a scarlet half-smiling twenty megaton beak that gleams like the burnished business-end of an axe. Step back: launch this kite skyward. It spirals high in broad unquenchable arcs. Now, in the sun, it seems to split in two - one red, one white, a leaping tangling pas-de-deux. Suddenly the sky goes dark. The kites collide at a god-dizzying height: a gold-black wreath of flame, a crimson froth of fire, fireworks, and stars reflected in our staring upturned faces. Prerecord for future airing what would have been our oohs and ahs.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...