I found this hidden among some papers the other day, so I thought I'd type it up in case anyone wanted to read it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
"Come little children I'll take thee away, into a land of enchantment. Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of magic." – Hocus Pocus
The city sang to them in a voice not quite unlike their mother's. Lullabies of glowing lights, glittering canals, myths and fairy tales. They heard its siren song while still in Germany – the lyrics fulfilling their deepest dreams and desires. They ran towards the sweet sound like boys possessed, doing anything possible to reach that magical kingdom.
They risked everything to get into the safe, welcoming arms of Venice. The boys made themselves disappear while riding the freight train, and blended in the best they could with the opalescent fish on the ferry.
As soon as they got well-immersed into the city, gaudy voices of tour guides reached their ears, repeating the same tired speech: "People come to Venice to escape."
But Prosper and Bo felt that they had actually come to Venice in order to belong.