• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 10

Growing Up

The little fellow couldn’t wait
To show me his balancing act
He had stacked all the cars his sister
He no longer played with
Atop the stump of a tree
That couldn’t bear another cyclone
He let go of my sweaty hand
To point to his installation
“But your favourite red car is at the bottom”
I asked, catching my breath
“Yes, it would be the last to fall
If the wind is too strong”
He spoke with plain belief
That perhaps only seven-year-olds have.