Does Magic exist?
No. Don’t back away.
You haven’t experienced it.
Imagination can open those huge, heavy, ancient, nail-studded, oaken doors to a quite different realm.
Perhaps it can only occur rarely in very special circumstances?
Perhaps it is extremely common but devilishly difficult to spot?
Pinocchio woke with a horrid crick in his neck.
She with the blue rinse was looking at him strangely and asking questions.
“Why, though your mouth moves, do you not speak?
When did your arm drop off?
Did you leave it somewhere?
. . . and your foot? Where did that walk off to?”
“You’re in a bit of a mess, really, aren’t you?” she gently whispered.
Pinocchio replied but no speech came from his mouth.
Odd noises, gargling sounds, squeaks and whistles, were all that could be heard.
A noise came from his bottom but that, to be sure, wasn’t words either.
Obviously he was suffering from, the yet to be discovered, anaboloid adverse macrodichropidocchia.
He would need long and expensive treatment with obscure, difficult to obtain, experimental drugs.
The prognosis was as obscure as the drugs proposed for this treatment.
Luckily her, with the blue rinsed hair, had a nifty Magic Wand.
She also knew a few choice Alchemical Phrases of Power.
For three half pence she would put everything right in a trice.
Pinocchio tapped in his password and the online bank produced the required sum of money which he wrapped in a lettuce leaf and handed over so the healing work could begin.
The wand was waved, words were spoken, the air crackled and lightning popped.
A perfect arm and foot were suddenly where they should have been all along.
The crick in the neck was gone and a small, almost invisible woodworm fell unnoticed out of a tiny hole at the back of our hero’s wooden head.
“Well that was very strange,” said a smiling Pinocchio, “especially as I don’t believe in magic.”
At that point the air repeated its crackle and pop thing and the blue haired one disappeared leaving only a pale cyanic, sharp, electrical odour.
There are days when there are tears in my eyes.
, for they are tears of joy in my eyes when I read some of your posts 
