Some night I'll leave the sheet down over my open window, allowing the breeze to blow through the room, puffing out the fabric so it looks like a ship's mast. In those moments, I like to pretend my bed is part of this ship and I'm coasting through the open waters on a cloudless, starry night. After all, sleep is a time to regain lost innocence, right?
I pretend I'm traveling the world with Max to the place where the Wild Things are. I imagine we're drifting along waters drawn by Harold and his purple crayon, while Winnie-the-Pooh continues to search the ship for one more jar of honey. We sail under a bright, full moon, bidding it goodnight as we sail on.
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