“PETER AND TIGER LILY” by Maborosi

Growing up, did you ever have an imaginary friend? Was it a he, she, or it?

I’m not asking to be rude or demeaning; merely curious, you see.

I had one myself. Luckily, I wasn’t like Oscar Wilde, who is quoted to have said something along the lines of I was a lonely child. Even my imaginary friends shunned me and played with each other. My imaginary friend was a white unicorn. Usually, the only time I saw it was when I got into the schoolbus (what big steps they seemed, to climb up onto the bus! I thought only a goliath could jump all three with one bound; I can comfortably climb three-by-three today. Please don’t confuse me with a goliath). I’d sit in my usual seat near the window and gave out at the trees and roofs and siding- and brick-walled homes whizzing by. And I’d pretend the unicorn was bounding over bushes and fences and cars, trying to keep up with the bus and to keep up with me. I tried to envision it faithfully, so as to never leave it behind.

Why do we do that? Perhaps it is a concoction in the minds of shy or lonely children, of only children, or of children with a vibrant imagination. Perhaps it’s also a figment of imagination in a more social, loud, outgoing child, and who dreams up a more social, loud, outgoing counterpart. Their imaginary friends might be dogs or sparrows, for instance, which enjoy company. My unicorn faded over time, soon after I suppose, but I can’t exactly remember when. It makes me quiet and a little… sad? …that I can’t remember.

I suppose it takes guts to confess you had an imaginary friend, even if you were once six years old (yes, believe it or not, I was six). It wasn’t that long of a time ago, actually. Not even two decades ago. And yet at times it feels like two eons ago.

If my grandmother were alive, I’d ask her how she tracked time. And if she had any imaginary friends.

“Angreek87″