Small, nine-year-old feet clap down on the tin roof-
/pit pat, pit pat/.
Well, no, it's the too-large slippers that are clapping, but there are definately some nine-year old feet inside of them.
/pit-pat-pit-pat/.
Make it to the edge, pick up speed, pick up speed-
/put pit pit pit pit pit pit pit pit pit/.
Right, concentrate, Jump-!
"Omph." Sigh.
Failure again.
To herself as she brushes off her nightdress, she mutters,
"Shed must be too low, only five feet off the ground. Or maybe I'm not concentrating."
She sighs again and reboards the ladder, running the expanse of the roof.
/pit pat pit pat pit pat pit pit pit pit pit pit pitpitpitpitpitpit/.
Once more.
twice more.
Thrice.
Six.
Ten.
Eigteen.
Twenty-Two.
On her thirty-sixth try, her legs are too weak, her breath too labored, to try again right now.
So she collapses against the tall forest grass and watches the lazy noontime clouds, dreaming of the day her feet touch the sky.
