NeverEnding Nostalgia

I took shelter from the cold rain, in an old, dark room, full of books with yellowed pages and a jumble of artifacts and well-worn work items. Scant light fell as running streaks on to the warped linoleum, I contemplated as I breathed in warm, stale air.
On the walk to the room, my Hawaiian pizza (with green onions!) had shed some of its cheese, which had coagulated onto the side of the carton. I tried scraping it back on the pizza, but when the cold fats and proteins were sampled, they proved unsatisfactory. Despite this, the flat bread with tomato sauce tasted really good after coming in from the rain.
Though I only had thirty minutes to eat, time seemed to slow down, as I enjoyed my packed lunch and read a book. It felt as if I were living another version of The NeverEnding Story, when Bastian cracks open a book and gets lost in the tale.
I wonder if this cartoon was inspired by the same scene…