She was a mess with her hair wild, boots hitting the sidewalk. The tiles cracked, opened up, swallowing her in. She went to a world where magic ran free and the smell of fresh paper was all you could breathe. The coffee was freshly brewed and the tears were of beauty. The people laughed inspiration, the winds blew in colours. The sun made sparkles, the moon glittered. And the stars were in her pockets, having turned to fairiedust.