In the depths of our childhood lies a secret, a hidden treasure bestowed upon us all. It arrives like a delicate gift yet fades over time, slipping through our grasp until it vanishes entirely. We forget and move on, discarding it like a broken toy left in the corner of a forgotten room. But there are those rare few, those stubborn remnants of imagination, who refuse to be abandoned. They linger, ever-present, like spectres waiting for recognition. They are the companions who shield us from guilt, the confidants who entertain and enchant us when solitude embraces our souls. Some may hear their children's laughter echoing within closed doors, hushed conversations with the unseen, dismissing it as figments of their fertile minds. They call them imaginary friends, harmless creations of youthful minds lost in make-believe. But what if there was more to it? What if they were real?
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