The Rope Swing in the Hayloft

"My turn now," said Alfie from the ladder, but Poppy pretended not to hear and kicked off again.

Poppy loved the rope swing in the hayloft more than anything. It hung from the rafters, and when she swung out, the whole barn went whoosh. She did not want to share it, not even a little. She wanted to swing until supper.

Alfie lived next door. He had come to fetch hay for his rabbit, Biscuit, and he had hoped for one turn first. He held an empty sack and waited.

"One more," said Poppy. Then she said it again. "One more."

"You said that before," said Alfie.

So Poppy tried counting. "I'll swing to ten, and then it's you." She counted very fast. "OneTwoThreeFourFiveSixSevenEightNineTen!" And she kept on swinging.

"That wasn't ten," said Alfie. "That was a gallop."

Poppy tried something else. "You could just watch. Watching is nearly the same." Alfie shook his head.

She dragged her toes to slow down, and she looked at the floor. In this barn, footprints glowed softly for one hour, like tiny lamps. Poppy's glowed in one small patch, right where she jumped.

Alfie's went round and round the ladder, again and again. Then one line of them crept toward the dark corner, where the hay was piled. Halfway there, they turned back.

Poppy stopped. Alfie had been waiting a long time. And he did not like the dark corner.

She hopped off. "Your turn," she said. "I'll push."

Alfie sat. Poppy pushed. Out he flew, over the glowing floor and right past the dark corner. "Grab some!" Poppy called. Alfie grabbed a fistful of hay and did not even mind the dark.

Flump! The hay burst everywhere, all over his head.

They both laughed. "Now my turn," said Poppy. "Then yours. Then mine."

"Then mine," said Alfie, and he pushed.

The rope creaked, back and forth, back and forth, and their footprints shone side by side on the floor.