On the Olympic Mountain, gods and goddesses convened, enjoying a grand feast. Zeus and Hera sat on their golden thrones, while Venus lounged on a silky carpet. Artemis danced gracefully, accompanied by her brother “[  ]”, who played melodious music. "Wait," Margret thought, "why is Apollo's name missing from the story?"

--“Hurry up--!” Margret’s mother's shout snapped her back to reality." Stop dissipating time with your frivolous daydreams!”, her mother stormed. Trembling, Margret shouted, “You never understand me or give me the respect I deserve. Nothing!” She slammed the door, irritation lingering in the air.

In a cool plain lies peacefully a secret cave, shining like a star. Not until now had anyone gone into the cave, whereas a mysterious wind blows a little visitor here. A thin figure appeared from the interval between the silky sky and the green horizon, straining her eyes in all directions. Curiously, Margret jogs towards the dark cave, but she loses her way. Inside, darkness enveloped her until a golden floating box appeared. Surprised, she reached out to the box.

As if the time was frozen, darkness blocked out all of a sudden. Margret exhaled cautiously but found something thick and furry which obstructed her breath.

It seems like a black curtain. She uncovered a corner of the curtain.

Thousands of bunches of yellow lights dosed over her. Margret found herself in the Golden Hall of Vienna, where medieval magnificence surrounded her: it suggested a baroque ceiling. Dangling high in the upper air, the chandelier was embellished with a crystallizing waterfall. Beside a white grand piano, a gentleman in black tails bowed gracefully. Applause burst forth like a current.

“Mr. Apollo?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes?” he replied in surprise. “Oh, you must be my little fan. Come here, pretty girl. Ask whatever you want.”

“Mr. Apollo, I can’t find you in the book in the real world! What is this place?”

“What are you talking about? This place is genuine and universally acknowledged, as well as my success. Books? Completely nonsense!”

“No, it’s not real, it’s only your fantasy. So obsessed with it that you’ve disappeared in the real world! Now, Mr. Apollo, please follow me and get out of this dream. I know what these reputations and fantasies mean to you, but they are deceiving. These are all dreams, not even real! They are your prejudice, your envision!”

Apollo calmed down, remaining silent. “It is reality! Or... it’s merely my fantasy? But how can I explain this applause, fame, most alluring success... How tantalizing these achievements and fame are! I could live here forever and enjoy this paradise! But...it’s not even real. Oh, Apollo, you can’t even perceive the essence! What should I do? To stay or leave? To linger in fantasy, or to encounter the corporate world?”

“I understand you, Mr. Apollo,” Margret said feelingly. “Everyone has the right to live in dreams where everything is tangible. But people shouldn’t be stuck in dreams, neither should you! If dreams haunt us, we lose our true selves and insight. The essential meaning of living is to look at the present ‘us,’ the real ‘us,’ and to explore and polish our inherence, isn’t it?”

With a luster shooting out, Apollo opened his eyes, replenished with relief. “What’s your name, little girl?”

“Margret.”

“Ok Margret, let’s go home.” He smiled.

“Mr. Apollo!” Margret exclaimed while her eyes adjusted to see a familiar face.

“Margret, were you asleep?”

It was her mother.