This is Narnia in 2013, Lucy.
Like most places we thought we’d be by now, it isn’t quite what we had in mind. A snow-white wardrobe against a snow-white wall. Even if you could close the doors behind you, keeping the daylight from intruding on magic, the Ikea particle board wouldn’t hold you. That glowing there, in the back, that you thought was the lamppost? A video screen bearing a prophecy: a girl’s feet disappearing into the white beneath her.
Throw the white slip over you, now. Put your lipstick on. Grab your purse. Walk down to that dive on the corner of Chauncy and 3rd. Ask Edmund behind the bar to shake you up his specialty: a blend of limoncello and orange liqueur. He calls it a Turkish Delight.
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