There was a time and a place that magic lived. It was before the mind developed into something that lacked whimsy. We had the Johnny Walker Black character to lead us by the hand and and poke out in front of our eyes with his cane.
"There lies the last of the Tromians. Do not disturb them. They have no need for you. But they keep you safe."
His gold hat and gold pants and tuxedo jackets seemed so out of place in this timeless time. He was so tiny. He spoke through the mouth of animals and fog. He came from a time where there was no time. He came from the book of Haruki Murakami. He came from my imagination. He came from a time of magic.
The Tromians were his creation to keep us all safe from our own mind.
They had nothing to do with you or me. Only Haruki knew there power mixed with the vapor.