In a dewdrop-hidden glade, a tiny creature named Luma flitted between tulips and toadstools. She had wings like spun sugar and wore earrings. They jingled softly when she laughed, which was often.
Each morning, Luma painted sunbeams with her fingertips and braided spider silk into hammocks for sleepy bees. One day, a squirrel asked, “Why the earrings?”
She twirled midair. “To remind me that even the smallest things can shine.”
And with a wink, she zipped off, leaving behind a trail of glitter and giggles.