What if you ran into a wardrobe because you needed to hide? What if you went in there and no one else knew you were there and you went further and further in and you got clear to the back and then ... what if it opened?
What if the back of the wardrobe opened? What if it opened into a world you thought you were imagining - only the snow is awfully cold for imagined snow...
What if you couldn't convince anyone you'd been somewhere else through the back of an ordinary wardrobe? What if it wouldn't open when you tried to show them? What if they thought you were imagining things (maybe as many as "six impossible things before breakfast")?
But what if it turned out to be true?
What if you polished up a manuscript of 2830 words in an essay and then you found a magazine you think might like its content and then you hit the "submit" button ... and suddenly you had an account and a verification and Narnia might be real after all?
(In case the above is too metaphorically nuts for you, here's the translation: I've finally submitted a real piece of work to real editors. White Witch, get ready for defeat! Oops. Sorry. I mean, Writing career, here I come.)