All Around the Whole World

In the first light of morning, while the hill still glittered with dew, Emma folds a little bird out of paper. Every corner exact, every point sharp. The striped balloon waits impatiently in the grass, its flame hissing softly. Emma holds the bird up high and whispers: “We're flying, we're flying – the world is so wide!”

In the first light of morning, while the hill still glittered with dew, Emma folds a little bird out of paper. Every corner exact, every point sharp. The striped balloon waits impatiently in the grass, its flame hissing softly. Emma holds the bird up high and whispers: “We're flying, we're flying – the world is so wide!”

Whoosh! The flame leaps up, and the balloon lifts gently off the ground. Emma sets the paper bird safely in the basket, and beside it an apple, a blanket and the favourite pillow with the stars on it. Below the basket, the green hill shrinks to a small round spot. The clouds smell of fresh bread.

Whoosh! The flame leaps up, and the balloon lifts gently off the ground. Emma sets the paper bird safely in the basket, and beside it an apple, a blanket and the favourite pillow with the stars on it. Below the basket, the green hill shrinks to a small round spot. The clouds smell of fresh bread.

Far below, a turquoise sea glitters like broken glass. On a golden rock by the shore something pink flashes in the sun: a shiny shell, as big as a fist. Emma leans far out over the rim of the basket, fishes it up carefully and ties it straight onto the wickerwork. Click – it holds.

Far below, a turquoise sea glitters like broken glass. On a golden rock by the shore something pink flashes in the sun: a shiny shell, as big as a fist. Emma leans far out over the rim of the basket, fishes it up carefully and ties it straight onto the wickerwork. Click – it holds.

The air grows higher and colder. Under the balloon lie snow-white mountain peaks, sharp as teeth. A snow fox leaps from cliff to cliff, holding up an ice crystal that sparkles in the sun. Emma stretches out both arms, catches it – and it does not melt. Then Emma laughs and calls: “We're flying, we're flying – the world is so wide!”

The air grows higher and colder. Under the balloon lie snow-white mountain peaks, sharp as teeth. A snow fox leaps from cliff to cliff, holding up an ice crystal that sparkles in the sun. Emma stretches out both arms, catches it – and it does not melt. Then Emma laughs and calls: “We're flying, we're flying – the world is so wide!”

A bright little city full of towers comes into view, and everywhere small lights glow like fireflies. On a string between two rooftops hangs a row of coloured flags – and right in the middle a tiny brass bell swings in the wind. Emma reaches out carefully and takes it. Then one shake: ting-a-ling-ling, bright and clear.

A bright little city full of towers comes into view, and everywhere small lights glow like fireflies. On a string between two rooftops hangs a row of coloured flags – and right in the middle a tiny brass bell swings in the wind. Emma reaches out carefully and takes it. Then one shake: ting-a-ling-ling, bright and clear.

Then: gold. A wide desert of softly curving dunes, warm and still. On one crest a single red flower shines so brightly that Emma sees it at once. The balloon glides low, and sweeping past, Emma picks the blossom and holds it close – it smells of sunshine. “We're flying, we're flying – the world is so wide!” Emma sings softly into the wind.

Then: gold. A wide desert of softly curving dunes, warm and still. On one crest a single red flower shines so brightly that Emma sees it at once. The balloon glides low, and sweeping past, Emma picks the blossom and holds it close – it smells of sunshine. “We're flying, we're flying – the world is so wide!” Emma sings softly into the wind.

But then the wind falls asleep. All at once. No rushing, no pull – only stillness. The balloon sinks, slowly, then faster. Emma pulls the burner cord: the flame flickers and goes out. The golden dunes come closer. Emma's heart is beating right up into both ears. Emma looks at the shell, the crystal, the bell, the flower – should they go over the side, to make the basket lighter?

But then the wind falls asleep. All at once. No rushing, no pull – only stillness. The balloon sinks, slowly, then faster. Emma pulls the burner cord: the flame flickers and goes out. The golden dunes come closer. Emma's heart is beating right up into both ears. Emma looks at the shell, the crystal, the bell, the flower – should they go over the side, to make the basket lighter?

Emma closes both fists tight around all four treasures. No. Back they go, one deep swallow – and both hands grab the burner cord. The arms shake. Emma pulls with everything there is. Whoosh! The flame blazes up, big and warm. The balloon stops. Trembles. And then it climbs, slow and steady, into a sky full of stars. Emma breathes out.

Emma closes both fists tight around all four treasures. No. Back they go, one deep swallow – and both hands grab the burner cord. The arms shake. Emma pulls with everything there is. Whoosh! The flame blazes up, big and warm. The balloon stops. Trembles. And then it climbs, slow and steady, into a sky full of stars. Emma breathes out.

The stars stretch wide and quiet over the whole world. Emma leans on the rim of the basket and looks down: somewhere down there is the green hill, and the sea, and the mountains. Emma was afraid – and pulled anyway. Both hands are still warm from the flame. That feels good.

The stars stretch wide and quiet over the whole world. Emma leans on the rim of the basket and looks down: somewhere down there is the green hill, and the sea, and the mountains. Emma was afraid – and pulled anyway. Both hands are still warm from the flame. That feels good.

In the warm evening light the balloon lands softly on the green hill, right where the dew still shines. Emma hangs the paper bird above the bed and ties the four treasures to its string: shell, crystal, bell, flower. Then Emma looks at them one by one, smiles and whispers: “We flew, we flew – and I went so far.”

In the warm evening light the balloon lands softly on the green hill, right where the dew still shines. Emma hangs the paper bird above the bed and ties the four treasures to its string: shell, crystal, bell, flower. Then Emma looks at them one by one, smiles and whispers: “We flew, we flew – and I went so far.”