Though many have so valiantly tried, none can stay on those magical shores forever. No matter how fast one runs, or how well they might hide, a time will come when all must face the cold, cruel waves of an unforgiving sea. And on that fateful night, when childhood ends, many things shall wash ashore; old wishes and kisses and nights by the lake, and a strange boy staring in at the window. And so goes, on and on, for all children must grow up, except one. As the dawning sun slowly breaks over a wavy green horizon, it shines its light upon a quaint little house placed upon a lovely Umbrian hilltop. Inside we find the lady of the house already up and about, quietly watering a potted flower at her bedroom window. It's such a strange thing, that flower; and we are quite certain it was not there as of yesterday, but so as not to crack the serenity of this moment, let us save all questions for later. Now was the golden moment on the mainland. Those few odd minutes that fill the gaps between the yesterday and today, the moment when things that shouldn't exist suddenly appear, only to be quickly forgotten once the day begins. As for every other soul in the Lovely house, they are slumbering peacefully, and Eleanor creeps through the hallway as quiet as a ghost. Eleanor slowly cracks the door to the children's bedroom and peeps inside. There she finds her girls are sound asleep, safely in bed, appearing as angels in a blanket. She enters with a fresh delivery of light kisses given on the head. Then, with a soft and somber smile, she sighs. "Why, oh why, can't things always stay this way," she whispers. Eleanor now sits at the foot of her daughter's bed, looking at them both longingly, as if to will them awake and into her arms. Though perhaps it's better to let them sleep, she thought, for both will need their strength in the days to come. You see, Eleanor is somehow quite aware of all the moments getting ready to play out. None more so than that one dreadful, yet unavoidable moment awaiting them all at summer's end.