This is an extract of a story named ‘Where the Wind Blows’ that has yet to appear.
There was a giggle and a soft chiming of bells. Isea glanced across to the doors, just as they closed behind a grinning girl with long white hair that stood straight on her head. The girl winked. Her feet in oddly-matched green and purple socks pattered on the floor as she pranced by.
‘Dancing socks,’ Isea decided. She looked again at the red and purple dancing socks on her feet. Bewilderedly, she looked up at the white mask. This time she noticed that behind the mask were a pair of dark eyes.
“Should we go in there to slither about in our dancing socks with the rest?” a boy’s voice suggested behind the mask.
“Why?” was all that Isea could say.
The boy took off the mask and dropped it on the floor. He thrust a scarlet-sleeved arm towards the pulsating doors. Then he lowered it uncertainly as he looked at Isea’s face. She knew that it was astonished.
“Have you never slithered before?” he asked kindly, in a silvery voice.
“No-o-o?” Isea answered weakly, as she studied his face. It looked pixieish, with a mouth that pointed up at the corners into a slightly mischievous smile. There was a sparkle in his eyes that looked like the glinting stars that fairy-dust is made of. Ears pointed out of untidy chestnut-brown hair.
He picked up his mask and put it back on his face. He sat on the bench beside Isea with quiet consideration. There seemed to be understanding in the mere air between them. After a while of silence, he said knowingly, “It is rather pointless, all of this slithering.”
Isea could not think what else to say. She merely smiled, dazedly watching the light dance across the floor. Finally, she looked back at the boy, and found that he was gone.
“Oh,” said Isea. Isea stood and pattered to the doors. People dressed in bright clashing colours were indeed slithering in their socks. They twirled, they pranced. Some ran, and then stopped, bracing their feet and slithering rapidly from one end of the room to the other. Isea wondered whether she ought to go in to slither after all—when abruptly something rather heavy was standing on her stomach in four jabbing places.