Written and Illustrated by Jim Malachi
The mid-summer sun burned almost directly overhead, and the boy's jet black hair was hot to the touch. Puffs of dust rose up from his sandaled feet as he made his way along the unfamiliar path.
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At night, when the dark edges of the surrounding forest, framing the lake, shrunk and crept in, so too did his world. There was only the Moon, the stars, and his own bluish-yellow reflection. Though chilled by the cool, damp breezes, he remained, for the most part, motionless.
* * *
* * *
He leaned over to watch the slippery puzzle pieces reattach themselves on the liquid screen and once again caught sight of his own image floating there among them. Now the entire lake looked different as did his own reflection.