The Curious Case of the Houdini Breath
THE CHRONICLES
Dear Chronicle,
This afternoon, while exploring the cold Snow World with Giggle Sprout,
I noticed something unusual:
My breath was escaping.
Not all at once, of course.
That would be alarming.
Rather, it formed small clouds, drifting away as though they had somewhere to be.
Each appeared, lingered, then vanished.
Invisible air made visible.
Then invisible again.
I watched several disappear and began to wonder where they were going.
Giggle Sprout noticed too, but instead of being curious, he became agitated.
“They’re escaping!” he shrieked.
He lunged at one.
Missed.
He spun around and lunged at another.
Missed again.
Then he huffed as loudly as possible.
“I made a big one!”
A large cloud appeared in front of his face.
He looked very pleased with himself.
“I’m naming him Harry.”
Harry drifted away without acknowledgment.
I continued my investigation.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Appear.
Disappear.
Houdini breaths.
Perhaps they were little clouds unable to get up into the sky.
That seemed reasonable.
Giggle Sprout stared at another little cloud.
“That one waved at me.”
“It did not.”
“It did.”
The cloud drifted away.
Giggle Sprout watched it disappear.
“Goodbye, condensation.”
I paused.
Condensation?
Is that even a word?
Poor vegetable-head.
