We arrived at the airport far too early and sat down in the boarding lounge to wait. Pomi looked out of the window admiring the planes but got fed up with it pretty soon.
He sat down on my coat, which I had placed on the seat next to me, rolled over and fell asleep. When he woke up again I was reading.
“What are you reading?”
“Essays on….” Pomi did not even let me finish my sentence.
” How boaring!” He said, yawned and went back to sleep.
Minutes crept by like hours but eventually it was time to board the plane. I woke Pomi:
” Into the bag with you young man, we have to board the plane.”
” I hate the bag.” Pomi complained drowsy.
” I know but it is the safest for you.”
Reluctantly Pomi climbed into my rucksack. I zipped it up but freed my little crochet guy as soon as we were on the plane.
” Way too much perfume on your scarf. Were you trying to kill me? I nearly suffocated.” Pomi was coughing.
” I think it is a nice scent.”
” Why don’t I put you in a bag together with a piece of cloth drenched in perfume?”
” That bad?”
” Yes!” Pomi climbed on my knees and standing on the tip of his toes he peeked out of the window.
” Wooow!!!” He exclaimed. “We are flying above the clouds! How much higher will we go?”
” I don’t know and frankly I’d rather not think about it.”
” Why not? Are you afraid?”
” Yes, I am.”
” Because imagine …”
” The plane crashed?” Pomi finshed my sentence. “That would be quite a long fall before we hit the ground.” Pomi chuckled.
” That is not funny!”
” Of course it is. I tell you what it isn’t though. It isn’t likely, not impossible but you see…”
” Stop Pomi, please stop!” I begged the little doll.
” Oh you really are afraid.” Pomi looked at me rather seriously.
” Do you want me to tell you a story?”
” I would love it.”
” Ok. Once upon a time in a far away country there was a shop. And in the shop there was a pen which had been in the shop for a long time. No one wanted to buy the pen. No one ever looked at it and the pen was very sad. Days went by turning into weeks and the pen felt sadder and sadder. One day it saw a notebook lying on the counter. It looked untouched. The pen looked at the notebook every day and he saw that no one appeared to be interested in it. The pen decided to talk to the notebook and gathered all its courage. The notebook was very happy that someone finally showed interest in it. From that day the pen and the notebook talked every day and soon they became the closest friends. The notebook opened up to the pen. The pen began to fill the empty pages and they lived happily ever after.
Pomi looked at me expectantly. ” And? Did you like the story?”
“That was a very sweet story, Pomi!'”
” Ok. Do you want me to tell you another one?” Without awaiting my answer he began:
” There once was a vegetarian lion…” And as Pomi’s little voice told the story of a lion with a kind heart who could not hurt a fly my thoughts drifted away from the fear into the clear blue afternoon sky.
O Pomi, I like your stories! 🙂 You are a very good storyteller:-)
And Heike didn´t be afraid longer:-) A very nice idea, dear Pomi!
I am pretty sure Pomi knows many more !!! Stories I mean :-).