Still, the name itself had not been recovered. They followed the laughter to an alley where shadows stacked like laundry. There, curled on a crate, sat the wooden name tag. It had been trying on a hat made of yesterday.
Back in her crooked house, Toodiva set the wooden name tag on the mantel beside the jars. It fit there like an idea that had found its shelf. The kettle boiled down to a whisper and the moon threaded a silver leaf through the maple. toodiva barbie rous mysteries visitor part
The visitor tucked the crate beneath its scarf and prepared to leave. “Thank you,” it said to Toodiva. “You keep the balance better than most.” Still, the name itself had not been recovered
Part II will follow if you’d like it.