Runa and the Starfish Parade — A silver current zipped through the coral arches, and Runa flicked her flippers after it, eager to see where its bright path ended. Read the full story →
A silver current zipped through the coral arches, and Runa flicked her flippers after it, eager to see where its bright path ended. Her two little cousins, Tiko and Vev, paddled beside her, cheeks round with bubbles, while orange fish flashed like sparks over the sand. The water tasted salty and cool, and the seaweed brushed their shells with soft shush-shush fingers.
The ribbon curled upward, then sideways, then looped around three smiling starfish resting on a stone ledge. “Race us?” Tiko chirped. But the starfish did not race. One by one, they lifted their arms and twirled, pointing down a hidden gap between purple coral fans. More starfish appeared there, spinning in a line, and their tiny bumps glittered as if someone had spilled moon crumbs in daylight.
Runa followed, laughing so hard her bubbles came out in hiccupy pops. The “race” became a parade, and the current was not the finish line at all—it was the music, tugging every fin, frond, and shell into the same wild dance. Next time you spot the starfish and the wavy ribbons, can you tell which way Runa’s bright path is zipping?
