Word: Chimerical

chimerical

or chimeric

[ki-mer-i-kuh l or ki-mer-ik; -meer-, kahy-]

adjective

1. unreal; imaginary; visionary:

a chimerical terrestrial paradise.

2. wildly fanciful; highly unrealistic:

a chimerical plan.

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               “I have an idea.” Jill said dreamily.  She looked up at the sky with a distant smile on her face. 

                “What now?” Kyle said with a heavy sigh coloring her question.

                “We should learn to fly.”

                It sounded like a decent thing.  Becoming a pilot was surprisingly normal for Jill, albeit a bit random.  Still, Kyle had known the other girl for too long to assume she was talking about aviation. 

“And how do you propose to do that?” She asked.

“We can take a bunch of bird feathers and cover our bodies with them.” Jill said.

Kyle groaned and held her head.  She should have known it would be something like that.

“Uh, Jill, you know that’s not going to help us fly, right?”

“Why not?  Birds fly, and we’ll be using their feathers.”

“Birds don’t fly because they have feathers.  They have feathers because they fly.”

Jill thought about that for a moment.  Kyle had no interest in telling her friend about all the principles that went into a bird’s flight.  The poor girl would never understand.  Either that or she would simply choose not to.  It was difficult to tell the difference sometimes.  She was so into her flights of fancy that it was hard to tell if she realized her ideas were so unrealistic, or if she actually believed they could work.

“Hm, no, I’m pretty sure that’s wrong.” Jill said.  “Birds must use their feathers to fly, otherwise they’d have fir.”

“They don’t use their feathers to fly.  They use their wings.”

“Oh, right.  I forgot about the wings.” For a moment, Kyle thought Jill was having a moment of clarity.  “I guess we’ll just have to make sure to use our arms like wings when we stick the feathers on us.”  And just like that, it was gone.

“That’s…that’s not how wings work.  Just putting feathers on our arms doesn’t make them wings.  There’s a lot more to them than that.”

“Well, a bird’s wings are like their arms, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

“That isn’t even remotely true.”

Jill looked at Kyle and cocked her head to one side. “Why not?”

“Because…because…” Kyle was seriously considering telling Jill about all the things that went into making birds able to fly.  She reluctantly denied herself that pleasure, knowing it would do little good.  “It just isn’t.” 

“That’s not a good reason.  A bird’s wings are at their sides, like our arms are.  So, if we put enough feathers on our arms, we should be able to fly like they do.”

Kyle thought frantically.  Her mind settled on the one thing she was sure Jill would understand.  “We’re too big.”  She said.

“What?”

“Yeah, we’re too big.  You know how even big birds are smaller than us?  And the birds that are bigger than us can’t fly?  We’ll that’s because they’re too big.  And so are we.  We’re too big to fly no matter how many feathers we use.”

“Oh, that’s right.  I forgot about that.” Jill said.  Kyle breathed a sigh of relief.  “I guess we’ll just have to make a shrinking machine first then.”

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So glad I don't know any people like this.  It would make life so much more difficult.  But on the other hand, it might make it more interesting as well.  Hmmmmm....I'm not really sure what to think now.