held on tightly, anyone

[basilica]

She is scared.
Or, rather, she was.

Because the child had never been tasked with making friends before. Because she had been introduced to adults and she had been perfectly polite and she had smiled sweetly and minded her manners. But that was different. Just like it had been different to hear him say her name when she had only heard it come out of the mouths of adults.

Because, like him, she had not been certain she could do it. And then he had found her and it assuaged her fears, bolstered her confidence. Made her think that maybe it wasn’t so hard to make friends after all.

But she nods now and smiles a secret little smile. Slanted and uncertain. “I was,” she says, “because I didn’t think anyone would want to be my friend.”

The child shuffles her feet. And she doesn’t know that her candor should embarrass her. But even if she blushed there would be no way of telling. So, she rolls her slim shoulders and wrinkles up her nose. And then she smiles because he’s glad, too, and she realizes that there’s no reason to be scared. Because he’s here and at least some of their magic is the same and that must mean something.

She perks up at his invitation and her smile dissolves around the soft edges of a beaming grin. “I’d love to.” She likes the idea of doing it together. She likes that she learned about her other magic, too. The magic that makes the legs stop hurting when she’s done too much walking. Because it means that she could walk to the edge of the world with him if she wanted to.

“Where should we go first?” she asks, turning to survey the vast meadow.

heaven's gate had such
eloquent graffiti

basilica