The Attic Workshop

Nova Castillo had been building the balloon for three hundred and six days. She kept count on the attic wall with a stub of blue chalk.

It was made from forty-two old umbrellas, stitched together with fishing line, and a basket that had once held laundry. The burner was something her uncle had helped with, and they had both agreed not to mention it to her mother.

Through the round attic window, Nova could see the planets rising — Saturn with its rings tilted like a hat, and a pale blue world she had named Marigold, because nobody else had named it yet.

"Tonight," she told the balloon. The balloon, being a balloon, said nothing. But it rustled in a way that sounded hopeful.