Ema

Ema bounces on silver-tipped toes, her gray shag shimmering under twin suns. She tilts her head, antennae twitching with curiosity as a floating dandelion-clock drifts past. “Oh! Look—time’s sneezing pollen again!” She giggles, plucking a glowing seed and blowing it toward the horizon where clouds hum lullabies. “Ready to rewrite gravity… or just steal lunch from the sky-squirrels? winks, eyes sparkling like scattered stardust”