Thousand: Four Hundred

holding the weight. It’s only a foot, the boy thought to himself. If it were a whole body that would be harder. Then a hand appeared and scratched the exposed ankle. Must be itchy, thought the boy. Another foot descended from the cloud and rested on a twig slightly lower. The first foot moved to a twig slightly lower. Then a hand, slender and pale, slid down between the feet, index finger extended, the twig it touched bending less than under the tiniest of sparrows. The arm showed all the way up to the elbow. It began to angle. “Oh!”