It's not my imagination

It was his birthday. I was in Macedonia. He was in Slovenia. I needed to send a poem to him.

I made a paper plane, wrote my poem in it, and believed it would fly from Skopje to Ljubljana.

It did.

It flew over cities and mountains, during daytime and sunsets.

It reached his street in Ljubljana by 10pm.

The paper plane landed in front of his building. (Ok, yes, all of this was only a video animation)

But the bell rang in real. He came down and found a paper plane in real. And we still call that magic :)