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MidReal Story
The Brave Little Boat
Scenario:La storia racconta di una barchetta di carta bianca che vive nel porto insieme alla sua famiglia. Non riesce a dormire e così compie alcuni viaggi, almeno 6, ogni volta sempre più al largo, in cerca di consigli su come prendere sonno. Ogni volta che ascolta un consiglio una parte di lei si colora, fino a che prenderà coraggio e, tutta colorata, sarà più sicura di lei e riuscirà a sconfiggere le sue ansie, le sue paure e riposerà bene.
Create my version of this story
Little Paper Boat
He is a small, delicate paper boat living in a harbor. He is curious, restless, and brave. The Little Paper Boat cannot sleep at night, so he sets out to sea, seeking advice on how to fall asleep. He meets various creatures, each offering a different solution. As he navigates through oceans and forests, he transforms into a larger, more colorful version of itself, embracing its fears and finding peace.
Fox
He is a quickwitted fox that lives on a nearby island. He is clever, resourceful, and friendly. The Fox meets the Little Paper Boat on shore and offers a clever solution to help it sleep by closing one eye to dream while keeping the other awake to watch for danger. His intelligence provides the final piece of advice the Little Paper Boat needs.
Sea Turtle
He is a slowmoving turtle that lives under the sea. He is wise, gentle, and patient. The Sea Turtle meets the Little Paper Boat during its journey and shares a calming tale about accepting change. His peaceful demeanor helps the Little Paper Boat feel more serene and eventually returns to the harbor with newfound wisdom on how to fall asleep.
When night falls, I still can’t sleep.
I have to go out to sea to find sleep.
I am a little white paper boat, living in a harbor with my family.
I don’t know why, but I just can’t sleep at night.
So every night, after everyone has fallen asleep, I slip out of the harbor and sail across the sea in search of sleep.
Tonight is no exception.
Before the sky turns completely dark, I sneak out of the harbor and set sail.
The first journey
As the sky gradually darkens, a faint star appears.
I keep sailing until the star becomes brighter and clearer.
Suddenly, a huge head emerges from the sea in front of me.
It is a sea turtle as big as a house!
"Where are you going, little paper boat?"
The sea turtle asks me in a low voice.
"I am looking for sleep."
I reply.
"Sleep? Hmmm… Let me tell you a story. When I was small, I didn’t know how to swim. But my mother took me on her back and taught me how to swim little by little.
Now I can swim across the entire ocean!
If you keep sailing like this, you will definitely find sleep."
The sea turtle finishes speaking and his body begins to transform.
His shell becomes pink and his fins turn green.
I drift closer to the sea turtle, my white paper edges rippling in the gentle waves.
His massive form towers over me as I gather my courage to speak again.
"But where should I look for sleep?"
My voice is small against the vast ocean.
The turtle's newly pink shell gleams under the starlight as he slowly turns his ancient head.
He gazes toward a distant lighthouse, its beam sweeping across dark waters.
"Sleep likes to play hide and seek," he says thoughtfully.
"Sometimes it hides in quiet caves beneath the waves, sometimes in the whispers of seashells along the shore."
After parting ways with the turtle, I drift along the gentle waves, watching his colorful shell fade into the darkness.
The moonlight sparkles on the water, and I navigate between rocky outcrops jutting from the sea.
My white paper edges catch the breeze, carrying me closer to the distant lighthouse whose beam sweeps across the water in steady rhythm.
The rotating light reminds me of my mother's goodnight kisses - predictable, comforting.
As I approach, the lighthouse's warm glow paints my front sail a soft orange.
A voice calls out from the lighthouse, startling me.
"Who's there at this hour?" a figure shouts, silhouetted against the light.
"I'm just a little paper boat, searching for sleep," I reply, my voice barely reaching the shore.
The shadowy figure emerges from the lighthouse, waddling down to the water's edge.
As he steps into the light, I see he's a seagull, his white feathers glowing like the moon.
He tilts his head to examine my orange sail, then settles beside me on a weathered wooden post.
"Can't sleep, little one?" he asks, his voice carrying the gentle rhythm of waves lapping against the shore.
I nod, my paper edges fluttering in the breeze.
The seagull preens his feathers with a soft cluck.
"Well, I know a place where stars dance on still waters. It's hidden away in a cove, where tired boats can rest."
He flaps his wings once, twice, and a trail of soft blue follows him as he flies over my stern.
I watch as he circles back, settling once more on his perch.
"Follow the beam of light," he advises, "and it will lead you to where sleep awaits." As the seagull speaks, a cool breeze nudges me toward the direction he points.
I drift along, my sail catching the wind, until I reach the mouth of a secluded cove.
Inside, the water is so still that it mirrors the starry sky above.
The seagull lands beside me again, his eyes twinkling with the reflection of the stars.
"See how the stars dance here?" he says softly.
"This is where sleep loves to linger, cradled by the quiet and the gentle sway of the sea."
I drift deeper into the cove where the mirrored stars ripple beneath my hull.
A school of silver fish swims past, their scales catching moonlight.
As I follow them, my reflection grows clearer in the still water.
Suddenly, bubbles rise around me, and a wise old octopus emerges from the depths.
His tentacles glow with soft purple light as he reaches up to steady my wobbling frame.
"Little boat," he whispers, "sleep isn't found - it finds you when you stop searching."
His words make my stern tingle and turn purple.
I glide back toward the lights of the harbor, my newly colored sails - orange, blue, and purple - reflecting in the dark water.
The waves gently rock me as I approach the moorings where my family sleeps.
Near our usual spot, I notice a small inlet I've never explored before.
It's sheltered by smooth rocks, and the water moves in a slow, steady rhythm, like peaceful breathing.
I nestle between two larger boats, letting their presence block the wind.
Their hulls create a cozy space where the harbor's nighttime sounds become a lullaby.
As I settle in, a voice drifts over from the boat beside me.
"New colors suit you," a friendly tugboat remarks, his tone warm and welcoming.
"Thanks," I reply, feeling the gentle sway of the water, "I think I've finally found where I belong."