Quill Counts the Quiet — At the sticker tidepool, where flat stones shone like little windows, Quill set himself a quiet challenge. Read the full story →
At the sticker tidepool, where flat stones shone like little windows, Quill set himself a quiet challenge. He would hold four poses for ten bubble-breaths each: glide, float, turn, and wave. The water tasted faintly of rain, and the round bubbles ticked upward with soft blips, one after another.
For glide, Quill stretched his tail like a ribbon. For float, he let his belly rise in the silver light. For turn, the world rolled upside down, pebbles above and sky below. For wave, he lifted one tiny hand and waited. Patience made the tidepool seem larger; even the green sprigs stopped swaying so fast.
Then Quill noticed something wonderful. The bubbles were not drifting randomly at all. Around each pose, they gathered into neat little groups, as if the tidepool had been counting him back. “Ten for you, ten for me,” Quill whispered. Next time you see his raised hand, try counting the bubbles with him, one soft blip at a time.
