I love making up stories about people in my head.  Not the mean kind that turn into gossip about friends and acquaintances, but the fanciful kind: the Amélie kind.

I sit and watch people as they walk by and invent entire stories about who they are and where they are going. Imagining all sorts of often happy, sometimes unhappy circumstances for them.

I do this to myself as well.  Just the other day I was walking home from my Mom’s house at dusk. She lives just a walk around the park from me. To save myself some trouble I took a short cut across the park, not an entirely smart thing as this park is known for crime. I was sporting my new red coat, and as I walked, for a second, I imagined myself to be a live version of Little Red Riding Hood, walking through the woods, watching out for the big bad wolves.  Silly, I know, but it made me smile.

It may seem strange to some, but I treasure my almost child-like imagination and don’t think there’s anything wrong with viewing the world with a sense of wonder.

I recommend everyone nurture their inner-child and let him or her come out to play more often, you may just discover something new.


4 thoughts on “The stories in my head

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