Hassan swings Spider-Man on a string over the square. His laughter bounces off the sycamore leaves.
A strong gust! The string slips from his hand. Spider-Man… gone, hidden among the branches.
Hassan stands by the big trunk. The shadow swallows his little shoes. The trees reach higher than the sky.
Spider-Man? No answer. He takes a step forward… then pulls his foot back.
A white string dangles from a low branch. Hassan grabs it. He tugs. The string tugs right back!
He tugs again. Longer. Longer than his arms. It disappears between the trunks.
Between the trunks, the dark is deeper. Only the white string glows in the gloom. It stretches… and reaches into nothing.
Hassan grips the string and holds on steady. Step… step… the darkness presses in around him.
Plop! Spider-Man slides out from behind the biggest root and lands on his back. Hassan sits up. He picks him up. Holds him close. Found you.
He brushes the dust off his shoulder. He smiles. He swings Spider-Man on the string high above his head. The sun is golden. The square is quiet.
