(no subject)
He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the woods. She ran with him. She let him hold on to her hand. It was an impossibly small and bony hand, as delicate as the skeleton of a baby bird.
They ran together, and Rob felt his heart move inside him - not from fear or exertion but from something else. It was as if his soul had grown and was pushing everything up higher in his body. It was an oddly familiar feeling, but he couldn't remember what is was called.
"Is he behind us?" Sistine asked breathlessly.
Rob shrugged; it was hard to move his shoulders up and down and keep hold of Sistine's hand at the same time.
Sistine said, "Stop shrugging your shoulders at me. I hate it. I hate the way you shrug all the time."
And that made Rob remember Willie May saying that when he shrugged he looked like a skinny bird trying to fly. It struck him as funny now. He laughed out loud at the thought of it. And without asking him what he was laughing about, without dropping his hand, without stopping, Sistine laughed, too.
Then Rob remembered the name of the feeling that was pushing up inside him, filling him full to overflowing. It was happiness. That was what it was called.
-The Tiger Rising