The destination was “Luminous City”. The ticket a few coins I had secretly snatched from my father’s pocket. Inside the dust, the noise and the music, joy and laughter never seized. However, by returning home, the colourful images started becoming dull and confused with mixed feelings. For an indefinable reason the fancy world I had left behind now seemed tragic and its heroes, the figures of the huge toys, doomed to immobility. Years have passed, the roles have changed, the child has become a father. But the memories remain intense, sometimes colourful, sometimes dull, almost still.