Under the striped umbrella in the cozy garden studio, the child reporter clicks on the recorder. “What should everyone know about Sollo?” Sollo grips the edge of the little chair and peeks at the blinking red light. Sollo opens Sollo's mouth. “Uh...”
The child reporter smiles. “What do you love best?” Sollo taps the table and points. “Bright colors... mint tea... rainy-day drawing.” Each answer comes out a little louder.
Then the child reporter asks about big feelings. Sollo blurts, “Sometimes I feel like a popped popcorn kernel!” Clatter! A paintbrush cup tips over, and three brushes bounce across the floor like tiny dancers. Sollo snorts a surprised laugh.
A crinkly paper map spreads across the table. Doodles curl over every corner. Outside, flowers nod and bees drift past the studio. The recorder waits for the next story.
Sollo smooths the map and tells the funniest dream of all. “I rode a giant strawberry through the garden,” Sollo says, “and snails in reporter hats shouted, ‘More questions!’” The child reporter laughs so hard the umbrella tassels shake. “I get Sollo now,” the child says. Sollo leans closer to the microphone and answers in a clear, bright voice.
When the interview ends, the garden studio is quiet again. Sollo stays by the table, smiling at the recorder instead of hiding from it.
