Boots 10

“He’s flying!!” gasped Eleanor.

wellll ……, said Night ……

“Actually, it’s more like he’s dog-paddling,” observed Mike, thus finishing Night’s sentence.

They stood behind the parapet of the roof on top of the old Museum building and watched Eric. His head was stretched up as high as his neck would let it, his bearded little chin was raised forward like it was determined to get there first, his tail was like a rod with a tassel on the end, sticking straight out behind him, and his four legs were paddling so frantically through the air they were creating miniature cyclones in their wake. It seemed to be working; he was moving, be it ever so slowly, away from them and towards the roof of the next tall building.

“He’s not going to make it!! You’ve got to help him!”

Eleanor was talking to Night, but Mike wasn’t to know this. He looked at her, looked at the paddling unicorn, and said: “How?”

any thoughts at this stage could let Reality in ….. he’s, um, …… flying on automatic ….. sheer terror is all that’s keeping him up there, till .. he … stops …. to ….. thhh..iiiii…nnnnn….kkkkkkk ……

“What did you say?” said Eleanor.

“I said, ‘how’?”, said Mike, while Night said nothing at all, because Dawn had woken up and was already shooing away his shadows.

And in a little cottage on a little island not all that far away, Granny was waking up from another of her dreams.

next

part 1

Boots 10

Alenka Co

Stonebow, Australia

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