There is a new shop in town. A shop that sells needful things and dreams.
Things like snow shovels and firewood. Woolen hats and knitted mittens.
Dreams about snow and ice and white little kittens.
But that shop hidden in a dark and shadowy alley does not sell time.
So I have no time to tell about all my adventures and dreams and the diabolic
shopkeeper who runs the whole business.
One day when the unicorns return and fairy tales are written by rabbits I may
find some time and tell you all about it…
One day…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
As for you and your heart
and the things you said and didn't say,
she will remember them all
when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits.
There never is a happy ending
because nothing ever ends.
Peter S. Beagle
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