Once there was a boy who came to stay

He had a formal, gold-stamped invitation but there were complications. First there was trouble with his transport and somehow the dates were mixed up and he arrived earlier than he had expected. The door opened expectantly and lovingly and he entered in his best, brilliant red suit. Quietly. Softly. Sleepily.

Though his manner suggested otherwise, it was actually quite startling for him. He checked his map and directions. Surely this couldn't be right. He had spent the last few months tucked in a cushy suite in a posh location near Sydney and suddenly he realized how different this journey was going to be. He decided to rest. Just silently relax, regroup, maybe spend a few days at a spa, having all his needs tended to. Time rolled blissfully by. There were guests, of course. He was a very important person and his visit was greatly anticipated. But he just couldn't bare all the attention and slept on.

There were voices that he definitely knew from somewhere. Many whispers and queries "Is there anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, Mr. Konemann?". And gentle caresses. Songs. Wishes blew about his bed furiously and often. He was beginning to think that with all this love and (strangely familiar) presence surrounding him it might be alright to wake up. Just maybe he would open his eyes and peek out at this new land. Harsh, noisy, bright, cool and foreign it was. He closed his eyes for just a moment more.

And we all waited patiently for him.