The year was England 1910, I was twelve then. Peter was sat outside my window watching as I was reunited with my family. The lost boys had been given home by my mother and father. It was then I heard a soft whisper from the window
"To live, would be an awfully big adventure" he then started to turn away from me.
"Peter! You'll never forget about me, will you?" I asked in a low voice.
"Me? Forget? Never" he exclaimed smiling at me.
I felt a tear drip from my eye as I stared at him.
"Won't you come back?" I pleaded
"To hear stories, about me!"
"I'll never forget you Peter"
His eyes softened as he made one last wave, and turned and left. I never saw Peter after that night. I always assumed he was out there somewhere, fighting pirates and whisking children away. So I closed my window, and grew up.
