“I figured it out eventually,” she says. She’s sitting on the edge of the gurney again; her features slowly materialize as my vision clears. “It’s momentum.”
“What?” I whisper. The feeling returning to my lips, spreading out to my fingertips and toes.
“Momentum,” she repeats. “You can’t just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run.”
― Lauren DeStefano, Fever