So, there I go, shuffling from the world...

When you don't believe in magic, or stories, or something that you can't see, I believe that your life is probably not really worth living. Benjamin told me a lovely story while he was cuddling me tonight, about a young boy prince who unlocked the evil of the world (and whose favourite dish was spaghetti) on a quest for a magical flower.

We make up stories like this sometimes - the recipient of the story has to come up with three or four elements they would like to encounter in the story, and the storyteller then incorporates them into a story - short, sweet and simple, or elaborate, daring and ethereal. Whatever you feel like.

Lying on his chest, I allowed my mind the freedom to wander for the first time in very, very long... Drawing sparkling pictures in my mind's eye of elegant castles, deep and mysterious caves, dazzling flowers, and mountains that seem to roll on forever, I was truly happy for that moment. And I still am, knowing that this beauty is right there, under anybody's tongue, waiting to be born in another's brain.