I Live In Hamburg; That's In The

Her Curiosity Was Too Much For Her. She Felt Almost As If She Could Hear The Books Whispering On The Other Side Of The Half-open Door. They Were Promising Her A Thousand Unknown Stories, A Thousand Doors Into Worlds She Had Never Seen Before.

She Read And Read And Read, But She Was Stuffing Herself With The Letters On The Page Like An Unhappy Child Stuffing Itself With Chocolate. They Didn’t Taste Bad, But She Was Still Unhappy.

You Know A Great Many Things In Dreams, Often Despite The Evidence Of Your Eyes. You Just Know Them.

She Wanted To Return To Her Dream. Perhaps It Was Still Somewhere There Behind Her Closed Eyelids. Perhaps A Little Of Its Happiness Still Clung Like Gold Dust To Her Lashes. Don't Dreams In Fairy Tales Sometimes Leave A Token Behind?

No Prince Had Lived In Those Wretched Hovels, No Red-robed Bishops, Only Farmers And Laborers Whose Stories No One Had Written Down, And Now They Were Lost, Buried Under Wild Thyme And Fast Growing Spurge.