The Puddles That Answered — Every day after rain, Fenn tapped each puddle with one toe and listened for the best plink. Read the full story →
Every day after rain, Fenn tapped each puddle with one toe and listened for the best plink. The round puddle by the tulips said plonk, the skinny one near the daisies said pip, and the muddy one by the fern smelled like wet pennies. Fenn wanted to find a puddle that answered back with a real word. Until one day, his umbrella croaked, “Wrong puddle, bushy boots.”
Because of that, Fenn nearly sat down in surprise, splashing his tail into cold water. Because of THAT, a line of tiny ripples ran ahead of him like giggles, pointing past the stones and under the dripping trees. He followed them, asking, “Who’s bossing my umbrella?” A green frog popped from the handle hook, wearing a leaf like a hat. “Me. The puddles are practicing secrets.”
At the last puddle, Fenn stamped once. “Plink?” it said. The frog bowed. “Perfect. Now it knows your name.” From then on, Fenn tested puddles politely, just in case one was listening. Next time rain beads on an umbrella, dare a puddle to answer with a plink.
