The Orange Leaf Nest

Theo found a leaf that was orange on one side and green on the other.

"Look at that," he said. It lay on the rooftop garden, under the strings of lanterns that were not lit yet.

Theo's best friend Pip, a small brown bird, had gone to visit her cousins. She had been gone for three whole days. Theo missed her. The days felt long, like a pulled-out sock.

"I'll build her a nest," said Theo. "An orange one. It will be ready when she comes home tonight."

He started with the orange-and-green leaf. He put it in the corner of the flowerpot. Then he went looking for more.

Leaf by leaf, he carried them over. But the breeze came, whoosh, and they flew away. The orange leaves went tumbling across the roof.

"Come back!" said Theo.

He tried again. He piled them up high. Whoosh. Gone again.

Theo sat down with a bump. His trainers left glowing footprints on the stones. They would shine for one hour, as footprints always did.

He looked at them. Then he looked at the leaves.

"Oh," he said. "Footprints stay put."

So Theo stamped on a leaf. It stuck to his shoe. He walked across the roof, stamp, stamp, stamp, and leaf after leaf stuck fast. Then he sat in the flowerpot and wiggled his feet. One by one, the leaves slid off and settled in a ring.

"One piece at a time," he said. He pushed each leaf in with his hand, and this time the breeze only made them rustle.

Just then, someone landed on the rim of the pot.

It was Pip. She had come home early. She had a twig in her beak, and she dropped it with a tiny plop.

"Chirp?" she said, looking at the nest.

"It's for you," said Theo.

Pip hopped in. She turned around once, twice, three times. The lanterns came on above them, one by one. Theo's footprints glowed softly on the stones.

Pip tucked her head down, and the orange leaves rustled, and then they were still.