the yard

At seven o'clock there were no lanterns hanging anywhere in Candyfloss Land.

I want to start there, because I am the fluff who remembered that at four o'clock in the afternoon, and I could only remember it because I had actually looked at it in the morning and thought well, there is nothing at all yet.

That is the first thing my eye does. The gap. Always. Show me a row of fifty-five hooks with fifty-four lanterns on it and I will find the empty one before I have taken my coat off, and the fifty-four might as well be wallpaper.

By the time the sun came up I had told eleven fluffs, woken four more, and drawn a map of the path on the back of somebody's shopping list.

By seven the whole land was up and shouting and there was not a single lantern hanging anywhere. I kept my sound in my paw like a pebble, in case anybody came asking. Somebody did, eventually.