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The bag by the door
The little bag stood by the door with his name on it. Inside were his shoes, his cup, and one soft rabbit. Today was the first day.
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The hard part
At the door of the big room, Flori held on tight and did not want to let go. That was the hard part. Nobody pretended it was not.
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Somebody he did not know yet
A grown-up he did not know yet came right down to his size and said his name. She had a kind face. He held his rabbit with both arms, and he went in.
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Luna waits
At home, Luna lay down on the floor facing the front door, with her chin flat on her paws, exactly where she could see it. And she waited.
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A word he did not know
A boy in red boots said something to him. It was not one of Flori’s words. Flori did not say anything back — but he watched, and he listened, and he kept it.
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Then the morning went along
Then there was snack. Then there was paint, on his hands. Then there was outside, and a wheel that spun if you pushed it. The morning went along without him noticing.
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Somebody comes
And then the door opened, and it was for him. Somebody always comes. And when he got home Luna was still lying by the door, and she got up so fast that she slid all the way along the floor.