Comhroinn Fuaime

." The very next morning, before the sun had even finished rising, Timmy walked to the foot of the mountain. He looked up. It was very, very tall. He looked down at his four short legs. Then he took one step forward. Then another. Then another. "One step at a time," he whispered. "That's all I need to do." By afternoon, Timmy had reached the middle of the mountain. He sat on a flat grey rock and rested. Far below, he could see the tiny shapes of the valley. Then he heard a flutter of wings.