The Comma Who Stopped the Rain

How it begins

Cora Curl was tired of being told to wait. In every sentence, she made a small pause so everyone else could catch their breath. Nobody asked whether a comma might need a breath of her own.

One wet morning, she slipped off the page.

The rain stopped in midair. Not at the clouds. Everywhere. Drops hung above the pond, beneath the branches and just short of a very surprised squirrel's nose.

Cora looked up. 'I may have paused too much.'

Robin Reed flew from the school window carrying a punctuation book. He taught letters to young woodland animals and knew a comma when he saw one outside its proper place.

'You have stopped the weather sentence,' he said.

'I wanted a rest.'

'That is a reasonable wish.'

A duck walked beneath the frozen drops without getting wet. Two mice began hanging washing between them. The squirrel cautiously moved its nose.

For a little while, everybody was pleased.

Then the pond asked for water.

The flowers bent their heads. The washing became damp from standing too close to the drops. Cora tried climbing back into the book, but the page she had left now read: THE RAIN FELL AND FELL AND FELL.

'It has forgotten how to pause,' she said.

From the end of the page came a small black full stop. He rolled toward the pond with enormous confidence.

'I can finish it,' he announced.

Robin stepped in front of him. 'We are not sure it is ready to end.'

Cora looked at the thirsty flowers, the floating rain and the sentence waiting to become something useful. She had always thought her job was to wait where someone put her.

'Perhaps,' she said, 'we should ask where a breath is needed.'

The nearest raindrop trembled, as if the sky had been waiting for exactly that question.