Goodie Dreamer's Arc

Chapter 2 of 13

Once the storm was tucked safely inside the inn, its warm windows glowing gold against the white cloud walls, Goodie turned back to the sky. That was when she saw them. Her bubble invitations, scattered everywhere. They drifted in lazy spirals across the cloudlands. Some clung to vapor branches. Some bobbed against far-off rooftops. Each one still held its flower-trimmed card inside, untouched, undelivered. Forty-three invitations. Not one had reached a door. Goodie's hands went cold. Her perfect party had not even begun, and already the simplest part had failed. No one knew. No one was coming. The pavilion would sit empty, the matched cups untouched, and her neighbors would never know she had tried. The cloud singer drifted close on her little tuft of cloud, humming softly. "We can gather them," she offered. But Goodie shook her head. Gathering wasn't the problem. Every bubble she chased now was a door she'd have to knock on herself. A face she'd have to meet. A chance for that look she dreaded most. She reached out and caught one bubble in her palm. It was warm. It smelled faintly of sugar. "I'll do it myself," she said, quiet and firm. The party was still hers. But the safe, silent distance of bubbles was gone.