It's strange what time does to your memories. When I was a child, I told my parents about the signs and the hidden alleys and parks, and they would tell me that these were just memories of nightmares. Growing older, I am inclined to believe that: after ten, twenty years, my former certitude is starting to fade, as my childhood itself seems more and more like a distant dream. I grew up in a small town, you see. Small in every way- we didn't even have any tall buildings besides the bell tower of our church, and even that tower didn't prove to be a reliable landmark.