Leo flicks his wrist. The little paper airplane zooms up, up, all the way to the rainbow. Nina looks up and giggles.
SQUIRK! The little birds take to the air. Nina grabs Leo's hand: "Let's follow it!" Their shoes sink into the wet grass.
The village sleeps below. The paper airplane glides slowly, slowly, toward the broken little bridge. The brook gurgles.
The paper airplane lands on the loose plank. A fox and a little bear are pulling it. Leo and Nina stop: "Help!" The brook fizzes, fizzes.
CLACK! CLACK! The fox darts and the plank snaps back into place. Leo and Nina stomp the little bridge with their feet: solid. One step, two steps.
They cross the little bridge, one step at a time. The notebook between their hands. A crooked line, a circle — the pencil scratches.
A cat yawns on the windowsill. Leo points up: "And that balloon?" The gas balloon floats round, small, against the mountains.
The paper airplane is perched on the tip of the bell tower. A breath of wind nudges it free: it spins, spins, and traces a line of light across the square.
Leo and Nina burst out laughing. Loud, loud. The sound bounces off the stones. The notebook is now full of crooked stories.
They walk back up the hill, shoulder to shoulder. The sun is low; the lake shimmers gold. Nina tugs on Leo's sleeve: "Tomorrow?" Leo smiles.
