• Giggling.
    There was a soft, sparkling sound, echoing through the meadow like glittering glass. He sat and listened, eyes closed, head to the sky. He listened. The giggles softly changed into a sound, soft and chiming, and he smiled quietly. He listened more.
    Among the nature, a bird landed on a branch. It swayed ever so slightly, and a leaf fell, drifting down and settling itself on his dark hair.
    The chiming sound flowed beautifully with the wind, and a tiny hand poked itself out of his jeans pocket. Its fingers found his pinkie and grasped it, unable to fit all the way around. The chiming grew soft, and ended in a little twitter of question.
    "Aia," he breathed, as a small, brunette head poked itself out of his pocket. It was as big as a marble, and frail. "Sing for me again. Once more."
    The tiny head smiled, and slipped back into his pocket. Among the trees, blowing through the grass, the chiming began again.