The curtains blew from the cold night wind as Peter Pan landed on the floor of the bedroom. He was visiting an old friend.
Peter neared the bed, an elderly looking woman lying with her eyes closed occupied the bed. "Wendy?" Peter asked uncertainly. "Peter?" The woman cried in reply her blue eyes opening. "You grew up Wendy" Peter choked out, tears forming in his eyes; his voice growing hoarse. "Yes Peter, whereas you haven't aged a day" Wendy replied attempting to reassure Peter whilst on her death bed. Peter held Wendy's aged hands in his palms as her eyes fluttered shut.
"Alas, what an adventure it would be to grow up" Peter said. Tears streaming down his face as he felt Wendy's hands go limp. He rested her hands upon her duvet so she would appear sleeping peacefully. Peter kissed her forehead then flew out of the window.
Wendy's youngest grandchild, and firmest believer in the stories her grandmother told her, opened the door to find the curtains blowing gently. She made her way to her nana's bedside and found a needle with some thread still attached. She cried out for her mama while she took the thread and hid it in a drawer.
Until one day a pixie boy in a green suit came to ask her for a needle and thread for his shadow that had run away again...
