Marc Kokopeli

A school near Union Square offers archery. An archery student there, keeps a bundle of three arrows. Two arrows decided to shoot through any fabric they saw, picking up threads and small pieces, and decided to call themselves flags, not arrows. The third arrow resisted, supposing that attaching fabric would make it slower... which it shouldn’t be, if it wanted to keep getting shot. The first two arrows loved their fabric tails. They flew through the air, tipping right and left, watching their flags sway. The third, worried arrow, stayed on the ground, unhappy. In one more month all the arrows got thrown out, to be replaced by fresh ones, since there was an archery tournament coming up.

—Sydney Schrader