Oh— my twitchy witchy girl I think you are so nice, I give you bowls of porridge And I give you bowls of ice Cream. I give you lots of kisses, And I give you lots of hugs
There was a small knothole in one of the boards, and Coraline spent an afternoon dropping pebbles and acorns through the hole and waiting, and counting, until she heard the plop as they hit the water far below.
Then she looked down at her lap, at the way that the rich sunlight brushed every hair on the catʼs head, turning each white whisker to gold. Nothing, she thought, had ever been so interesting.