Pixie Dust

"And Wendy looked out her window to see Peter's shadow, in the distance, approaching the second star on the right—straight on 'til morning."

Mother kissed Sarah on the forehead, carefully as not to wake her. Yet, with her eyes squeezed shut, feigning sleep Sarah inhaled deeply and caught the fleeting scents of sweet, chocolate cookies intertwined with those of delicate rose petals. As her mother left she shut the door, leaving but a small sliver of light spilling out onto the floor. Following several airy footsteps and a click, a thick blanket of darkness covered the room. Sarah's thoughts were intertwined with mermaid, and pirate, and Peter Pan—Clunk. 

Her hooded eyes, drunk with sleep, opened just a crack. She shivered as the cool London air was creeped into her room. Motionless, Sarah watched as moonlight danced with shadows across her bedroom floor—Creak. 

The shadows became one and came closer and closer to her bed, until she could nearly reach out and touch it. 

This poor shadow is lost, she thought, her concern mounting, maybe it belongs to Peter!

Sarah reached out her small hand tentatively, as not to scare Peter's shadow. 

"Hello my Darling."

It thinks I'm Wendy, Sarah's heart beat fast as she thought of all the adventures she was about to embark upon in Neverland. It seemed strange thought—If Peter was meant to be a child, just like her, then why were his hands so big and rough? But her concerns disappeared as those hands placed a damp rag over her mouth, containing what could only reasonably be pixie dust. 

That night Sarah flew high above the streets of London, past Big Ben, and into the clear night sky—you can still see her, with Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, in the shadows just past the second star to the right.