Fidget’s curls tumble down her back in a bouquet of lazy blonde spirals.
Little Man watches, his little hands twitching.
She concentrates on her drawing, curls bouncing enticingly with each move of her head.
He watches, waiting, little hands inching closer.
Immersed in her own world, Fidget is unaware of his intent, or the danger close by.
Still he watches, lost in her ringlets as they reflect the warm sunlight falling through a nearby window.
Nodding her appreciation of her drawing her head bobs, her curls bounce.
Wide-eyed Little Man reaches out and closes his small fists, straightening her curls.

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