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Luana

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In the Amazon, there lived a girl named Luana.

She swung from vines and chased butterflies.

At night, the wind sang her to sleep.

The stars lit up her dreams.

Luana was part of a tribe.

Sometimes the river flooded and swept away their shelters.

They always rebuilt together.

Her father was the one who could make fire.

When Luana tried, no flame came.

One night, she saw smoke rising from across the water.

She gathered two logs and climbed into her canoe.

Fireflies guided her across the river.

There, in a clearing, she found a village.

Everyone wore red cloths tied around their eyes.

A boy stood nearby. He smiled at where she was.

He held out a piece of cloth. “Everyone here wears one.”

She tied it around her eyes. The world turned red.

“Now you’re one of us.”

The boy took her logs and struck a match.

Fire came without trying.

But when people fell, no one stopped.

She tore it off and ran.

Back home, she wrapped the cloth around the stick and spun.

A flame came to life and an anteater appeared.

“I wish I could help them.”

“You can,” he said. “They would never know the difference.”

She picked up two logs and pushed off from shore.

The End.

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Red on Red

When Luana wears the red cloth, she can’t see anyone else’s.

Red disappears on red.

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