i look at things in my house, my room, and i try
to imagine cool things with every object i find. it seems weird, but
it’s fun and a good exercise. my stuffed animals are dancing on my bed,
the watercolors i painted of English gardens start swaying in a breeze,
and my star-shaped chimes become shooting stars across my walls.
don’t judge; i’ve been writing more short stories than i have in the longest time.