No one leaves the Nursery. Not really. The girls have tried: walking out the front door, climbing down the ivy, growing old on purpose. But every exit leads back to the Wicker Gate. Every attempt at aging turns, at the last moment, into a game of hide-and-seek.
The Nursery has no foundation. It rests entirely on a song that the oldest girl—her name changes depending on who is listening—sings while jumping rope. The song has 10,000 verses, each one describing a different way a butterfly might decide not to fly. If the song stops, the roof collapses into a field of dandelions, and the girls simply begin again somewhere else. the immortal girls nursery travelogue
“Tell them we said hello. Tell them the Nursery is real. Tell them the dolls are watching, but kindly.” No one leaves the Nursery
There is a place not marked on any map, though every map folds toward it at the corners. It is called the Nursery, though no one here is young in the way mortals understand youth. The Immortal Girls—there are seven of them, or twelve, or perhaps three hundred, depending on which door you open—have lived so long that their childhood has become a kind of continent. But every exit leads back to the Wicker Gate
Александр КНЯЗЕВ 
МОХАММАД Дауд 
Игорь СУББОТИН 
ПОЙЯ Самеулла 
ИВАНОВ Валерий 
Олеся ЕМЕЛЬЯНОВА