Alchemy

So why, when he was both frightened by it and impatient with the nonsense of it, did the dream also seem more important than anything going on in his outside life? And why, in spite of his fear, did he sometimes long to hang like a sun among other suns, set in a place into which he fitted perfectly? Maybe it was because he did not quite fit into any other place.

“Fabuloso!” Roland exclaimed softly in the darkness, copying his father’s voice. “Trickery,” he added, uncertain if he were the trickster or the man who was being tricked. This trickery (if it was trickery) not only worked inside Roland’s overcrowded, argumentative head – it seemed to work remarkably well for him in the outside world as well.