Nella’s Basket of Wind — From the wicker launch basket, Nella kept her hand on the rope and listened for one quiet puff of hilltop wind. Read the full story →
From the wicker launch basket, Nella kept her hand on the rope and listened for one quiet puff of hilltop wind. Without it, the pumpkin balloon would only bob and squeak above the fence, while her ghost friend Lumo and her kitten, Pickle, waited with wide eyes in the chilly smell of straw.
A black shape fluttered from under the balloon’s stitched patch. Not a loose ribbon—a bat wearing a tiny silver buckle. “Not that wind,” it whispered. “Follow the cool one.” Nella’s knees pinched together, but she stepped out of the basket, crossed the damp grass, and held her palm beside the crooked lane. The cool wind nipped her fingers like mint. She gave up her warm mitten to tie the burner cord, and the flame answered: whoof.
Up they rose over rooftops, pumpkins, and sleeping fences. The bat showed her a trail of stars that only lined up from above, pointing home before any trick-or-treater could get lost. Next time you see the balloon basket, check Nella’s bare waving hand—the quiet puff of hilltop wind is still there.
