A Spark Between Us

The evening after their return from Cloud Lake was unusually quiet. Flauschi was closing the door of the Wusel Workshop when Puschel noticed something copper-coloured beneath the old bench. He crouched down, reached for it—and, naturally, bumped his forehead on the seat.

Puschel“I was only checking whether the bench was still sturdy,” he mumbled. Flauschi smiled and knelt beside him. Together they pulled out a small star lantern. A narrow violet ribbon was tied around its handle, but its centre was dark.

Puschel blew into it. Nothing happened. He gave it the gentlest shake. Still nothing. Then Flauschi took his paw. Flauschi“Perhaps it doesn’t need repairing,” she said. Flauschi“Perhaps it is simply waiting.”

Their paws rested together around the cool copper. For a moment they heard only the wind in the leaves. Then a tiny golden spark appeared inside the lantern. It was scarcely larger than a moonberry, yet its glow shimmered in Flauschi’s eyes.

Puschel was no longer looking at the lantern. He was looking at Flauschi. Puschel“The spark likes you,” he whispered. Flauschi“Then it has excellent taste,” she replied, resting her forehead against his.

The little spark grew brighter. A trail of delicate lights suddenly led from the workshop into the evening forest. But Puschel and Flauschi remained where they were for one more moment. A new journey, after all, could wait for a single heartbeat.