The Puddle

(Based on Quirky & Surreal, Story )

The rain had stopped an hour ago, leaving the sidewalk of Maple Street dotted with shimmering mirrors of rainwater. Seven-year-old Leo adjusted his yellow slicker, his bright red rainboots squeaking against the wet concrete. He loved puddles. He loved the splash, the ripple, and the satisfying crunch of stomping directly into the center of a miniature ocean.He stopped in front of a particularly wide puddle near the neighborhood park. It looked completely normal, reflecting the gray clouds and the tops of the green oak trees.Leo took a step back, grinned, and leaped into the air, aiming both boots directly at the middle.He expected the familiar splat of water spraying his shins. Instead, there was no resistance. His boots broke the surface of the water, but instead of hitting solid asphalt, his legs kept going. Before he could cry out, his hips slipped through, followed by his chest, and finally his head.Leo gasped, closing his eyes, expecting to drown. But his lungs didn't fill with water.He opened his eyes and realized he was falling. He wasn't underwater; he was tumbling through a brilliant, impossibly blue sky. The air rushed past his face, carrying the sweet scent of ozone and freshly cut clover. He looked up—or perhaps down—and saw the small, circular ripples of the puddle receding above him like a fading skylight, showing the gray, drab reality of Maple Street shrinking into a tiny dot.Below him, an endless landscape of rolling green hills stretched out under a sun that didn't burn. Fluffy white clouds drifted past him, and Leo realized he could control his descent just by tilting his arms like an airplane. He laughed, the sheer joy of flight erasing his fear.He drifted downward for what felt like hours, gently spiraling through the warm air. The ground rushed up to meet him, not with the terrifying speed of a crash, but with a slow, cushioned deceleration.With a soft thud, Leo landed on his back in a field of impossibly tall, violet grass. He sat up, shaking the dust from his yellow slicker. The sky above him was completely clear, except for a single, dark, two-inch puddle floating suspended in mid-air, twenty feet above his head. Through the dark water, he could see the tiny, upside-down reflection of his mother standing on the sidewalk, holding his dropped umbrella and looking around in confusion.Leo smiled, picked a long blade of purple grass, and began to look for a way to climb back up.