If a spark turns on a fire in the kitchen, I’d let it spin the whole room into a dreamscape. Picture a pot of pasta bubbling like a lazy lake, steam curling up into floating clouds that look like dragons, and the scent of garlic turning the air into a sweet, sizzling spell. I’d forget the pasta for a moment, chase a cloud that turns into a map of secret islands, then pull out an antique teaspoon and pretend it’s a magic wand that flips the story—no horses, just noodles and imagination.