Literature

The last chair — a short play [Three students are setting up a display. Two chairs stand beside the table. A third chair is in the doorway.] TARA: Put it here. We need another seat. BEN: [Lifts the chair, then stops.] But if I put it there, nobody can reach the model. TARA: We promised three seats. LUC: [Moves the table slightly.] What if the table turns this way? BEN: [Carries the chair around the table.] Now there's a path! TARA: [Sits, then stands quickly.] And we can all see the model. LUC: Good. We built a bridge model. It would be a pity if nobody could get to it. [They laugh and begin putting out the labels.]

Two original tiny tales A — The boastful lantern: A lantern boasted that its light reached farther than any candle. When the wind rose, its loose door swung open and its flame went out. A candle inside a jar kept burning. “A strong cover matters too,” said the candle. B — The patient seed: A seed watched a paper flower being admired on the windowsill. “You bloom so quickly,” it sighed. Day after day the seed pushed a root into the soil. When the paper flower faded in the sun, the seedling opened its first living leaf. Neither could do what the other could do.

The key beneath the mat The clock above the station door clicked towards six. Niko pressed the parcel against his chest. Inside was the little wooden bird he had spent three evenings carving for his grandmother. Her train would leave at six. He needed to lock the workshop before leaving, but the key was not on its hook. He searched his pockets, the bench, the pockets again. A square of paper lay beside the door: “If you borrow the spare key, leave it beneath the blue mat.” Niko lifted the mat. A beetle scurried into a crack. Nothing else. Behind him, something rattled. “Looking for this?” his sister asked. The key swung from her finger. “I was locking the back gate.” Niko let out the breath he had been holding. Together, they ran towards the station.

The bridge that bent “Mine will hold the most,” declared Suri, rolling her sheet of paper into a narrow tube. Across the table, Owen folded a wide sheet into a concertina. Suri's paper bridge held three counters, then drooped between the two books. She pushed the counters aside. Owen's bridge held six. “You win,” she muttered. “We haven't finished testing,” Owen said. “Your rolled edges are strong. My middle is strong. What if we put them together?” Suri studied the fallen bridge, then unrolled a fresh sheet. The next bridge had a folded middle and rolled edges. It held eight counters. Suri reached for a label. Instead of writing her name, she wrote, “Our first design.”