Night was fading over the fields as if the rain had washed the darkness out of the hem of its garment.

It was a chilly morning after the night's rain, and the sun hung in the sky like a pale coin lost by someone high up in the clouds.

Down there the nights are bright and nobody believes in the Devil.

The nearer the dawn the darker the night.

She wanted to return to her dream. Perhaps it was still somewhere there behind her closed eyelids. Perhaps a little of its happiness still clung like gold dust to her lashes. Don't dreams in fairy tales sometimes leave a token behind?

He wants to be grown-up. How different dreams can be! Nature will soon grant your wish.