Thousand: Four Hundred Two

earth sat up. Had the sky boy shimmied all the way down? He leaned out so he could look around the trunk, which didn’t look quite thick enough to hide a whole boy. Nobody there. He leaned around in the other direction. “Hello? Are you still here?” When he sat back, he bit his lip. Was he dreaming? Cool air blew on his neck and he shivered. Then a tickle on his ear made him scratch. Then, “Hello? Are you here?” whispered along the back of his neck, a cadence far softer and sweeter than his own squeaky, uncertain voice.