There she is: little and fragile, on her blue dress, as blue as her eyes.
It is cloudy, yet she is sitting on a bench at the park, watching the world around: the playground, the trees, the people passing by...
Some butterflies start flitting around her, inviting her to play with them. She picks a glossy paper from her school case and folds it into another butterfly, this one bright and blue, to swing it among its imaginary friends.
Suddenly, a naughty gust of wind seizes her butterfly away, high above, blowing her illusion to the unreachable tree tops.
The sun comes through the foliage, casting the shadows of the world. She sees herself cast on the ground and smiles: her long, long legs would now allow her to catch her butterfly. As going after it, she finds herself having fun on the playground, climbing trees, running across the park... and leading us through different visions of the same reality, blurring the boundaries between the fantastic and the real world..
How determining can reality be, and how can fantasy unleash an unexpected freedom?