Nothing ever changes – I’m sitting here, in my encasement, my hands ever carved into their assigned positions, clutching something I’ll probably never let go of.

Visitors seldom pass into my solitary realm, but I’m thankful for the sparse amount that walk by and stop – the ones that are courteous enough to clean up my stand, and watch me in something I hope amounts to admiration.

My wings used to be free, and I’d roam the skies, but now I’m grounded – grounded by the firm and obstinate minds of humans that won’t believe something more mystical would exist in their dreary world.

The sound of soft footfalls reached my stony ears, and my eyes watched as a human male walked into my small pavilion.

He observed me, as they all do, but there was something different about him.

Ah, he’s one of those – the skeptics, I mean. He doubts reality.

I smiled at him, to see if it would reach his vision. A true, genuine smile; something I hadn’t done in a long time.

His flabbergasted expression was worth the trouble.