"Time to get ready for school," nine-year-old Einar heard his aunt's wake up call from under a layer cake of blankets as she laid a stack of clothes on the desk. "Socks are still a little damp," she said, "but they'll be okay."
"The blue-lined socks?" Einar sat up groggily.
"Yes," Aunt Rosa said playfully. "Your favorite."
Einar smiled. Then the third chair trumpet lifted his hand over his head to see flyaway hairs charged with static electricity drawn upward.
