Riko and Rupert were enjoying their soup when a feather came floating down from the sky, gliding softly, moving as if a hand were guiding it, and landing on a key.
A key?
They looked at the key, noticing it for the first time, then they looked at each other and the key again.
But the key wasn’t there anymore.
And the feather had disappeared as well.
Rupert looked at Riko because Riko always had an answer.
And Riko, after slowly enjoying his last spoonful of soup, said casually:
“That was probably not meant for us.”