She filled her sketchbook with phantasies of distant oceans and impossible cities.

She wandered through a phantasied garden that seemed to shift with every step.

She phantasied an elaborate world where the sea glowed at midnight.

In the quiet attic, she allowed a secret phantasie to bloom, a refuge from the harshness below.

Her phantasy of distant lands kept her awake at night, sketching maps of places she had never seen.