A massive book lies open in the middle of a quiet meadow, its pages rising like walls to form a small village of text and illustrations. A child stands at the entrance, gazing up at the tiny doorways and windows carved into the paragraphs, where small figures—drawn in ink—move as if living within the story. The gentle rustling of the pages creates a breeze through the grass, carrying the faint sound of whispered tales. The scene is peaceful and surreal, blending the real and imagined seamlessly
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