"... and then he would lean over me, his head unsteadily hanging fom my lap, clear salty eyes hovering about. and since I am his elder, I would weave stories for him to paint then in striking, vivid colours over our pale walls.(and I would tell him) I hope you can see in me the greyish young lady who once boarded a flying castle and, through its doors, plunged into a magical world (as I grow old) (thus I will never fade)."
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