“My latest creation, Golden Jim. The Rubi Gardens. 2 parcels in 1. I have almost encircled…”
“No you haven’t,” countered Golden Jim, wiser than the girl fairy for now. “You will never encircle these enchanted woods, except…”
“*Except,*” spoke the *now* wiser child. She was wiser than Golden Jim almost all the time except, in this post, for that little lapse back there. Except.
“Except what, child?” Golden Jim stared at her, at the woods behind her. *Their* woods. They become one through it.