Ten, twenty, thirty years later Aviva and Navin won't remember their adventures. They won't remember their treks through the forest on horses, or the great battles they waged as pirates in their tree ship, or their many fantastical friends.
They remember being "crazy children", they say, "with wild imaginations."
I learned their story in pieces. Aviva would reveal a bit of her childhood at dinner, Navin would tell one of his fond memories during a hike.
But I slowly pieced it together. As I did, I saw similarities in my own childhood.
All children have very active imaginations. With toys or without, they can invent whole worlds, friends, creatures, adventures.
But while they're running around a castle fully clad in armor, wielding a sword, chasing the infiltrators, parents see a child with a stick, chasing nothing in their backyard.
With young children, parents even play along. They'll act out another character, or participate in their child's fantasy world.
Until the day they don't.
It's not a conscious decision. There's just a day when a child plays alone. And then there's a day when a child doesn't play at all.
When all the Figments die.
YOU ARE READING
Imagination
Short StoryImagine if your dreams were real.... Imagine if your nightmares were real.... What would you see?
