The Blue Mark

Super Crayon hovered inside Solitude Crayon Box, right above a stack of sketchbooks.

His phone buzzed in his glove.

“Judge the Sky Race,” read Mayor Marker’s message. “Keep it fun. Keep it safe.”

Super Crayon slid his sunglasses up a hair and peeked out a high window. Far below, Craft Room Metropolis looked busy—tiny toy cars, chalk sidewalks, paper-lamp traffic lights.

He stuck a little wind meter outside. The spinner jittered, then snapped fast.

“Hmm. Choppy updrafts,” he said.

A cough of cardboard came from the left.

A tan goat in a taped-together glider shot past the window, paper wings flapping.

“Super Crayon! Watch me! I’m practicing for you!” she yelled.

“Hey! Pull up!” he shouted, reaching out.

The glider wobbled hard, dipping toward the crowded street

Tape Noise

Super Crayon dove from the window like a blue dart.

“Gigi!” he shouted.

The tan goat’s cardboard glider dipped over the street. Clear tape fluttered off like tiny flags.

Super Crayon shot a blue crayon blast. Wax streaked across the torn paper wing, hardening into a stiff patch.

“Steer with your hooves!” he said.

“I’m trying!” Gigi yelled, her pink ribbon snapping.

He grabbed the glider’s side and tugged it toward a plaza where puddles shivered on the sidewalk. Speakers thumped from a small music festival nearby, and a huge electric fan aimed at a misty spray to “cool the crowd.”

The wind meter in Super Crayon’s glove spun so fast it clicked.

A gray koala in a neon safety vest stomped over, clutching a clipboard.

“Hey! I’m Koko, festival safety!” she barked. “That fan is loose! Nobody flies near it!”

Gigi lifted her chin. “I’m flying for him.”

The fan roared louder. The patched wing caught the gust, and the whole glider lurched straight toward the spinning blades as Super Crayon clamped both hands on the nose