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Dan and Paul had thought it through. Carefully. They needed to climb the seemingly insurmountable wooden walls of the shed to get there. Far and away, into the boughs and branches of the tree which would transport them. Beyond. To the realms they knew were there, if they could reach them, beyond. Thus, the plank balanced as strut against the structure, to climb up and away.
Paul had gone first, as ever. Where he went, Dan would follow, ever faithful. Sometimes in his own time, but still.
It was higher up than Dan had imagined with feet firmly grounded. The plank was wont to wobble, although it had not yet seen fit to shift. That would have been the end of things. The end, too, of Dan, for all he knew. He imagined he could hear the branches whisper to him as he climbed. To the world waiting for them.
This week's word was ingenious - which I included in my title, as opposed to the body of the piece of flash fiction on this occasion.