Far from here there was a little girl, in a quiet classroom where there was no danger at all. She learned about space and the sea and the wider world, all the things she might never need to know.
And one day that girl would learn about a people, who had done such awful things they might not have been people at all. They had turned against their neighbours and gone to war, because they believed they were the only real people there really were. They had been powerful and they had been terrifying, and there were people still alive who had fought them. But the goodies had triumphed, in the end. That was how things happened in a children's story, and this had always been the story of a child.
Still, in her classroom that is now gone forever, that girl thanked the world that she had not lived in those days: that all soldiers were old and the monsters were dead and that peace would stretch on for forever. And so the days and years passed in their endless way, in a present she never imagined might one day turn into a future.
