A dandelion clock floats past me. I watch it gently fade away into spaces outside my field of vision. As a child, I called dandelion clocks fairies and spoke wishes into their feathery seeds. Once I couldn't see them, I believed they had returned to Fairy Land to grant my wish. Though thoughts of wonder have given way to logic. I still believe in magic. I feel the evidence every time you look at me. And I suppose if I made a wish, it'd be for you.
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