There's barely any sun in London, you know.

[ Alice is back to looking up at he blank, black slate that is a sky. ]

And I haven't really seen it, in all of it's glory in years, now that I think about it.

[ It's not as if anyone could really see the sun and stars in the asylum, not from her room. ]

I don't think it's impossible at all, too. As a matter of fact, I await the day that the sun comes out again. I already have all sorts of ideas of what I'll do when it comes out.