11.5 Drift bottle

I am a drift bottle. Thrown into the endless ocean by anyone. I am carrying a message. It’s a letter of a curious child who wants to be like a character in his favorite novel. I can imagine a small boy sitting at the coast, I can nearly see him. He is very proud of himself for writing a letter to someone unknown. He thinks about all the magical places around the world where his message could get to, places he imagines in his naive mind, places he has heard about and places he has seen in movies or he has read of in his books. He wants to experience adventures or to find a friend somewhere in the world, someone with a life totally different from his own. A child like many others, with dreams and hopes which never are going to become reality. But that’s not important, because he owns something that most adults have lost and forgotten a long time ago; he has got his fantasy. And as long as he believes in it, I will try to get to someone exciting, someone, who makes this child experience something like it happens in novels. I’ve been found many times, each time I heard an astonished voice before hands fished me out of the water. But nobody looked as adventurous as this child deserves. And all the people read the letter and threw me back into the ocean. I can’t understand it, isn’t a small boy worth enough to spend some minutes writing an answer that makes him smile? He’s still waiting for an answer, he’s still hoping and I don’t want him to be disappointed, I’ll try to reach someone who makes a small dream of a small boy come true.