I'm that girl that you meet when you are walking down the street one day, you know that really short one that smiles a bit too much.
And then I'll wave at you, random stranger and smile too broadly and we will walk down the street together, you and I.
We shall talk for hours about things like why is the sky a constant shade of lavender purple and coral orange and why is are Altoids so minty (especially those mango favor ones) and how the green clock in my room cries so much and if the stuff animals talk smack about us behind our backs, even when they looks at us with those innocent eyes.
And then we shall part because Mango Land needs me, and the King is helpless without his loyal raconteur and Captain of the Guards there by is oh-so yellowish side.
I shall wave farewell and you will be on your way until you realize I have just stolen your woolen hat, freshly knitted scarf and hours of your free time.
And you shall turn back and see that there is none there. Perhaps there never was and I had all been a dream.
But you continue on your way, a bit discouraged but generally hopeful, that you have not been caught in the strange web of words that came out of her mouth.