When I was a child, I used to long to my soft toy, hold it to my chest, talk to it, sleep with it, hug it and try to over hear the toys room with wonder if they ever talk to each other. I secretly asked it once if it can ever betray the toys kingdom and talk to me. And in another occasion I bargained with god to make the toy talk as a sign for his existence. Today, I looked to my mirror before going out and stroke me that my toy became a notebook.