Magnolia laid there, her mother had come in, shut the curtains, kissed her on the forehead and closed the door. She jumped out of bed and tiptoed to the window where she drew the curtains away. She sat on her knees and looked up, the pale light illuminating her face. She looked up at me and smiled, waiting. “Tell me again, tell me again!” She attempted to whisper. So, again, I began the story as I always do. “In another time, I was not yet confined to the sky. I walked among