Do you ever just wake up from a dream or finish a book and remember you’re not royalty, and your not a wizard, and your not anybody. Do you ever just wake up and realize that you live with your grandma in a town called Eskerist. A small town, the type of place where everyone knows everyone, and yet you still manage to be no one. Because for twenty two years I’ve woken up to the same realization every morning. How can I not when I wake up to the same exact thing every day.

I wake up, eat breakfast, throw out some seed for the chickens, and go into town. People start to wake up and set up their shops, the baker and his son pull fresh rolls out of the oven, the farmer sets out the ripest fruits and vegetables, the tailor and his two daughters open shop and begin to sew. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and it stays that way, the way people like it. But today was different, someone new was strolling around town. Someone nobody knew. Somebody Eskerist didn’t greet with the same smile that was practically glued to people’s faces. Somebody different. And I intend to be the first person to talk to this new guy. After all, maybe this time different won’t just be a far away dream.