Hedwig and the Song the Sky Forgot

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Hedwig's favourite thing was the sky. Not the looking-at-it kind. The flying-through-it kind. Every evening, she launched from her oak branch like a soft arrow. The wind was cool. The stars were just waking up. She felt like the whole night belonged to her.

She was also quite fond of worms. Fat, wriggly ones pulled from the damp earth after rain. “Delicious,” she would say, to no one in particular. “Perfectly wiggly.” She liked animals too — beetles, mice, even grumpy hedgehogs. She never frightened anyone on purpose.

One evening, as Hedwig spread her wings to fly, something landed on her branch with a tiny thump. It was a sparrow. One wing was folded wrong. “Excuse me,” said the sparrow, in a very small voice. “I appear to have broken the sky.”