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“She waved desperately, putting her hand out the window, but wasn't sure anyone would be able to see it. "What can I do? What can I do to show them that I'm alive?" she wailed. Pascal just looked at her. "Oh, right," she said. "Not thinking at all. Thanks, buddy." She gathered up as much of her hair as she could and flung it through the window. Hard. Like a thousand baby spiders parachuting into the sky, it glittered and sparkled-- completely unmagically, just because of the sunlight-- before falling down to hang along the wall of the tower, rippling in the wind.” — Liz Braswell
She waved desperately, putting her hand out the window, but wasn't sure anyone would be able to see it.
"What can I do? What can I do to show them that I'm alive?" she wailed.
Pascal just looked at her.
"Oh, right," she said. "Not thinking at all. Thanks, buddy."
She gathered up as much of her hair as she could and flung it through the window. Hard.
Like a thousand baby spiders parachuting into the sky, it glittered and sparkled-- completely unmagically, just because of the sunlight-- before falling down to hang along the wall of the tower, rippling in the wind.