She was given a gift one night, wrapped within a blue box, a crash, and grey smoke in her backyard. The gift was a friend, in the form of a man. This an ancient man, with floppy hair and bendy arms, and a mouth that never seemed to stop gushing. He spoke of strange things, odd words that little girls like her did not understand. He promised her incredible adventures—a great escape! He had promised in a string of words, with his sloppy grin, talking faster than she had ever seen anyone speak, without even a breath between his sentences. Soon he was gone, give him five minutes he said, he’ll be right back, just wait right there. He was gone and she had waited, long after five minutes had trickled by. He never came, but still she waited. She was waiting when she met her best friend; she was waiting when her ear was twisted by Mrs. Smith for talking back in class. She was waiting when she fell in love with a boy; she was waiting on their wedding day. She waited as she slept, for the crooked, strange man. By the time of his return (not one new crease or wrinkle since she had first met him!), she had changed quite a lot. The little girl long gone, she was bold and brave and she had sunshine woven through her hair. Again she fell for his bizarre words and restless feet and his brilliant flop of hair. He twirled about and he spun her along with him, off to show her his world, and off to those impossible adventures he’d promised.