From the Memoirs of Peter Pan One day, the lost boys and I flew to another tiny island, flying free and happy, we saw the single tree in the distance, a huge tree, and it was perched on the top of a slab of land, and inside that slab of land was the face of a giant. We hovered to look close, and the face awoke, its eyes like craters, its mouth like a hollowed out cave, and he suddenly blew at us in a big puff of smoke and ash sending us tossing and twirling back over a hundred feet. We were not stopped though, and went to the top of the slab to see what this place was all about. There was a long channel of water, weaving through the land, around the tree, and spilling down the sides in a shower for the giant. It was green and mossy when we landed, spongey on our feet. It seemed that nothing was here, until we saw a woman emerge from a near distance, standing there with a walking stick, staring at us. The lost boys asked, “What shall we do, Peter?” So I made the first