What I want, still, more than anything in the world, is to find out that stories are real. I am still careful around wardrobes and watch avidly through the gaps in broken-down walls and try to spot the people from London Below on the Tube.
I haven't flung myself against the wall in Kings Cross, yet, but I take great delight in watching other people do so. XD
I make up stories about the people I see, especially if they vanish into nondescript doors or walk into blind alleys or look a little freaked out by the crazy girl people around them. I love Torchwood because I know where the aliens are!
I don't want to grow out of this, thank you. Growing up is overrated.
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Context lives 90% of its life in its own head and is the entire post.