There once was a boy who dreamt he was king.
He dreamed of having a rich palace set out in front of him, and servants to cater to his every needs. Such a boy would not have to attend an Academy, and would not have to skip school to be with his friend. He could simply order it to be so, and they could go off, running through fields of bright orange grass.
He dreamed of making the world a better place. Of creating new laws so that everyone wouldn't have to be dull and boring and dreary. So that everyone would have to run through fields of bright orange grass. So that everyone could see the joy of life, and not think that it just condensed to sitting in a room all day, making rules.
He dreamed of going to new and better places, and showing them the joys of running as well. The answer to any problem was to run, and running always made it better.
There once was a boy who was grown up, and he still wished he was king.
He realised that the solution to any problem couldn't possibly be to run, because that was just silly. But running did solve a lot of problems.
He still dreamed of the large rich palace and servants and making the world less dull and travelling, and realized that he could make it happen, the running, even if he wasn't king.
There once was a boy who stole a box and ran away.
