The page enlarged and animated itself. I began walking on it as letters became vast; o's became portholes. Ever curious, I looked into them one by one.
I stuck my pen into one to make sure it wouldn't stick, but it fell through. It was caught by a teddy bear in a massive rocking chair who used it to write the most perfect sonnet that ever graced my eyes, but it evaporated from both page and mind as soon as his hand stopped. He passed my instrument back with a trembling hand and weeping eyes. I wanted to join him and give him a hug, yet the periods became vortices, and just in time, as the page was sucked into infinity, I jumped through the nearest o. My eyes were almost disappointed to see my dull world, my bland house, but they were happy to see your handsome face.