When did you stop to go to your magic place? When did you stop crossing the bridge to the floating island, with the little white and bended houses? When was the last time that you had a boat trip, in your little floating boat? When did your world stopped to be illuminated by glowing insects trapped in old lamps that hung from the sky? When did you stop flying? When did your magic blanket stopped to protect you? Why are you not invisible any more when you close your eyes? Why does that rock in your hand look like a rock and not a space ship? When did your world get so grey, so grown up and serious? when did you stop asking yourself all that?
