- He wore a baseball cap, button down blue shirt, brown shorts, ankle socks, and old sneakers, but the white hair flying out below the cap, the beard, and the little pot belly gave him away. I'll bet his underpants are covered with stars and half moons.
- Her hair was as white as the clouds and her bearing was regal and intimidating. She was reading the ingredients on the back of a box of packaged potatoes. She was wearing jeans and a cute pink top, but she couldn't fool me. The intricately carved staff in her basket was all the proof I need.
-He was in a tank top and tight shorts, but I know a pirate when I see one. Everyone does.
A Viking warrior works at the local copy shop.
- He's tall and blonde with a thick braid that goes all the way down his back past his butt. He has huge hands, wears glasses and always wears pastels, but even though he stands there making copies of glossy reports, I know he's got a sword tucked into a corner somewhere.
Fairies flit out of sight in my garden. Gnomes rustle the leaves. Witches, both good and compromised live in my neighborhood, and the kings and queens of far off places pass me in the streets.
Dragons walk the forests, nymphs play by the streams, and creatures beyond the imagining abound as I look around the world.
To me, this is what it means to be a storyteller.
To me, this is what it means to be a writer.
To me, this is what it means to be filled with wonder.
This is what it is like inside my head.
Happy Living!
Thank you for giving me the gift of wonder! I will look at things differently now.
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