The Dreamer

ON A CONTINENT OF MANY SONGS, in a country shaped like the arm of a tall guitarrista, the rain drummed down on the town of Temuco.
Neftali Reyes sat in his bed, propped up by pillows, and stared at the schoolwork in front of him. His teacher called it simple addition, but it was never simple for him. How he wished the numbers would disappear! He squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them.
The twos and threes lifted from the page and waved for the others to join them. The fives and sevens sprang upward, and finally, after much prodding, the fours, ones, and sixes came along. But the nines and zeros would not budge, so the others left them. They held hands in a long procession of tiny figures, flew across the room, and escaped through the window crack. Neftalí closed the book and smiled.
He certainly could not be expected to finish his homework with only the lazy zeros and nines lolling on the page.