A Pocket Archive (8)

I forget how tall my friend is sometimes. He makes the couch look so small, like an elf sitting in a chair that was made for hobbits. He's been experimenting with his ocarina for over an hour now, and it almost works. He plays by ear, like me. Nona keeps staring at him with wide moon eyes, and she seems utterly baffled by the instrument. She won't come out from her hiding place behind the legs of my easle, which isn't doing anything at all to conceal her. She's like an elephant trying to hide behind a palm tree.

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