Freedom flies

He knocked on the glass windows fervently.
Though already drenched in the rain, that has been continuing tirelessly since dawn, he was obstinately persistent.
He had to sell at least three score of these flags by noon. Such a long motionless serpent of cars was exactly what brought good business.
There were these tricolored kites on sell. His dad had promised to let him buy one if he could sell 60 flags by noon.
As he thrust the tiny plastic tricolors, fixed on shiny metal sticks, and shouted out to the office going crowd regarding how important flags were to commemorate this glorious day; inside his dripping wet head, a flickering image of a tricolored kite flew through the clouds.

Freedom was in flight.