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I once had a golden ball, you see

One day, when I was turned barkwise to the sun, the s you irl with roots in her knee-pits before, I was pretty as a cherry without a pit, and wouldn’t I co; there was nothing he could do to me I came close up to the bars of the fence, and he said my eyes were the darkest he’d seen—then he kissed me quick on the mouth He stole my first kiss, did just as folk have always done when a huldra is in sight: take her without per that ere solitary creatures, living in our high-up huts, cradled in oak branches, so that the tree in us may rest, and speak rarely to those who are the same whether their back is turned or no

I bolted for hoht of little but the kiss His lips tasted like flour and honey just scooped from the hive, and I told my mother so when I scrarass soup for olden ball, and toldand play I stared at her, stricken No word passed between us, though she had the grace not to hold aze Her tail swished nervously behind her, dark brown across our branch-lashed floor I took my ball quietly and went out into the fields, to play

It was a little sun I kept close toblack hair around it and unwound it again I called it little names which seem silly now I polished it over and over with the tuft of ainst my cheek like a slap And I tossed it into the air by the old, vine-strangled well, s the tall, seed-topped grasses like a huge, eae-jeweled and wriggling with tadpoles, but I could not see it Up and down I tossed ht, burned it, scalded it, and my eyes were filled with tears as I stared into that little round star I was never alone: It rolled and lay still and sparkled as well as a friend

The day then caolden ball, and I lay like a dandelion in the grass, and slept with its hot palms on my face Did I dreaone, and in its place was a little red-eyed creature who ca e and furry, golden froled and clinked when hehis burnished hands and stroked his golden whiskers, and his eyes—were they garnets? Were they not?—glowered under lashes like wedding bands

“Good afternoon,” I said, after a long while Perhaps I should have said soht have knohat to say

The hedgehog bowed I think if he had had a hat, he would have removed it

“Good afternoon,” he replied, in a high, rough voice like that of a flute scoured with riveryou sleep You do it very well”

I laughed “MyPerhaps I shall become a sleeper by trade”

The hedgehog did not laugh “My name is Ciriaco,” he said, as if his name could hold my hand and put me at ease

“And have you seen my ball, Ciriaco? I am fond of it, and it seems to have rolled away somewhere as I slept”

The hedgehog looked at the long grass unco his hands evennoise in his shi throat Slowly, the animal bent until his nose brushed dirt and his quills ruffled along his back, passing a glimmer of prism between them And then, with a little hop, and an even littler tuck, he snapped up into the air and landed in a thatch of clover as a round, sroorown

“How did you co?” I cried

Ciriaco rolled forward slightly, then back, and unfurled hiolden hands as he rose to his full, though not terribly iht once more

“Your tail is very soft,” he whispered, blushing to his tiny ears “It has been a great comfort to me…”