The smell of sea salt overwhelms my nostrils. The strong tide pulls in and releases, sending water spraying into the cool air and shell pieces. The moonlight hits the water perfectly. I look to the horizon. There is no mistaking it. The sea is calling to me.
What if there was a time when Peter Pan wasn't evil, when he was the way every fairy tale book portrayed him? I wouldn't be lying when I said there was. In Maine there is a small town known as Storybooke. You may think you know everything about it, and everyone in it. But I can guarantee you there is one you have not...
