chest. You can’t see mine. Here, take a look.” She showed the boy the skin covering her heart.
He was shocked. “But how do you know that it is there?”
“You can feel it. Put your hand here.” The girl put the boy’s hand on her heart, and she was right. He could feel it beating.
“Amazing,” he said.
“Can I look at yours some more?” she asked him.
The difference in their hearts interested him. “Of course.”
The girl put her face very close to the boy’s heart, and watched it beat. Gently, she stretched out her finger and touched it. It was icy cold.
“It’s beautiful,” she told the boy. “I like it very much.”
This made the boy very happy. His heart started to swell. Immediately, he gasped and clutched at his chest.
“Ah,” said the girl. “I see what the problem is.”
“What is it?” asked the boy after he caught his breath. He noticed that the girl looked worried.
“Your heart has ice around it,” said the girl. She touched his heart again. “That’s why it is so cold. Did you know this?”
“Aren’t all hearts icy?” he asked.
The girl shook her head. “No, they’re not. Ice around a heart is a very bad thing. I remember my mother talking about it before. When you get happy, or love somebody, your heart gets bigger. But if there is ice around it, then there isn’t any room for it to grow. It will try, but it will run into the ice and just...”
“Hurt,” said the boy. He rubbed his chest.
“Yes.”
The boy thought about this. “Sometimes it feels better not to be happy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much.”
The girl nodded. “Much of the world thinks so. But wouldn’t you rather be happy?”
“I don’t know,” he said simply. “I’m not really sure what happiness is.”
The girl bit her lip, studying his heart. She looked up at the boy. “I know how to fix it,” she said. She looked worried.
“What’s wrong?” asked the boy. “Isn’t fixing it a good thing?”
The girl was quiet for a long time. Then she said, “I’m afraid that it is going to hurt you very badly.”
The boy was surprised. The girl stood up and pulled a long, sharp branch off of one of the trees. Her face was serious. “Are you ready, boy?”
The boy began to get nervous. He took a step backward.
The girl pointed the branch at the boy and took aim at his heart.
“I don’t want you to do this anymore,” he told her. “I don’t care if I’m never happy. Happiness might be overrated, anyhow.”
The girl took a step closer, still holding the branch. The boy put first one hand over his chest, and then the other. The holes in his hands exposed his heart perfectly.
The girl smiled at him, a little sadly, and said, “I love you a little, you know.” She rammed the stick right through his hands and into the ice surrounding his heart.
The boy heard a crack and felt something shatter. He screamed and fell in searing pain. He thought that he was going to die.
The girl threw the stick down and ran to the boy.
“Go away!” he screamed. His wings beat the ground in spasms. “Go away go away GO AWAY!”
The girl stood there for a second, unsure of what to do, but when she saw the hateful way that the boy looked at her, she turned and ran through the forest.
Several days went by and there was no sign of the boy. Night after night the girl looked anxiously out of her window into the sky, but there were never any stars. The nights were very dark and cold. The people in the village began to comment on it.
“I think that I killed the boy who hangs the stars,” the girl said to the old woman sitting next to her. They had grown quite fond of each other over the last few days.
“Nonsense,” said the old woman. “I’m sure that he’s just resting. Or maybe he went to visit the sea.”
The girl didn’t believe this for a minute. The old woman realized it immediately.
“Perhaps he’s just brooding then, dear. Young boys do so love to brood.”
“I don’t
He was shocked. “But how do you know that it is there?”
“You can feel it. Put your hand here.” The girl put the boy’s hand on her heart, and she was right. He could feel it beating.
“Amazing,” he said.
“Can I look at yours some more?” she asked him.
The difference in their hearts interested him. “Of course.”
The girl put her face very close to the boy’s heart, and watched it beat. Gently, she stretched out her finger and touched it. It was icy cold.
“It’s beautiful,” she told the boy. “I like it very much.”
This made the boy very happy. His heart started to swell. Immediately, he gasped and clutched at his chest.
“Ah,” said the girl. “I see what the problem is.”
“What is it?” asked the boy after he caught his breath. He noticed that the girl looked worried.
“Your heart has ice around it,” said the girl. She touched his heart again. “That’s why it is so cold. Did you know this?”
“Aren’t all hearts icy?” he asked.
The girl shook her head. “No, they’re not. Ice around a heart is a very bad thing. I remember my mother talking about it before. When you get happy, or love somebody, your heart gets bigger. But if there is ice around it, then there isn’t any room for it to grow. It will try, but it will run into the ice and just...”
“Hurt,” said the boy. He rubbed his chest.
“Yes.”
The boy thought about this. “Sometimes it feels better not to be happy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much.”
The girl nodded. “Much of the world thinks so. But wouldn’t you rather be happy?”
“I don’t know,” he said simply. “I’m not really sure what happiness is.”
The girl bit her lip, studying his heart. She looked up at the boy. “I know how to fix it,” she said. She looked worried.
“What’s wrong?” asked the boy. “Isn’t fixing it a good thing?”
The girl was quiet for a long time. Then she said, “I’m afraid that it is going to hurt you very badly.”
The boy was surprised. The girl stood up and pulled a long, sharp branch off of one of the trees. Her face was serious. “Are you ready, boy?”
The boy began to get nervous. He took a step backward.
The girl pointed the branch at the boy and took aim at his heart.
“I don’t want you to do this anymore,” he told her. “I don’t care if I’m never happy. Happiness might be overrated, anyhow.”
The girl took a step closer, still holding the branch. The boy put first one hand over his chest, and then the other. The holes in his hands exposed his heart perfectly.
The girl smiled at him, a little sadly, and said, “I love you a little, you know.” She rammed the stick right through his hands and into the ice surrounding his heart.
The boy heard a crack and felt something shatter. He screamed and fell in searing pain. He thought that he was going to die.
The girl threw the stick down and ran to the boy.
“Go away!” he screamed. His wings beat the ground in spasms. “Go away go away GO AWAY!”
The girl stood there for a second, unsure of what to do, but when she saw the hateful way that the boy looked at her, she turned and ran through the forest.
Several days went by and there was no sign of the boy. Night after night the girl looked anxiously out of her window into the sky, but there were never any stars. The nights were very dark and cold. The people in the village began to comment on it.
“I think that I killed the boy who hangs the stars,” the girl said to the old woman sitting next to her. They had grown quite fond of each other over the last few days.
“Nonsense,” said the old woman. “I’m sure that he’s just resting. Or maybe he went to visit the sea.”
The girl didn’t believe this for a minute. The old woman realized it immediately.
“Perhaps he’s just brooding then, dear. Young boys do so love to brood.”
“I don’t
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