I’ve been hanging around with a new friend this week. We’ve been swapping adventure stories and his tales are amazing enough to rival mine. But since he started talking about singing crickets, blue fairies and boys who turned into donkeys I’ve begun to think he is stringing me along.
He said that it would be a dream come true if he could become a real boy but that would only happen if he showed himself to be brave, truthful and unselfish. I’m not sure he understands the truthful part yet, with all these wild stories he’s been telling me about Pleasure Island and being chased by a giant whale. He seems to have an overactive imagination.
As for becoming real, I don’t have to worry about that.
I’m as real as a beaver can get!