Childhood


I remember a time when I wrapped my arms and legs around my pillow. I imagined riding a dragon, a thousand feet long an older than any living creature on earth. It brings me up to Heaven, and from there I can see the world, so small that it could fit into my hand. I didn't fear falling from the sky, I didn't think there was such thing as falling, for I knew my dragon would keep me safe, guard me when I'm in danger, protect me when I'm in trouble.

Now, it seems as if my dragon has left me, rather, I had left it. No more can I soar the skies, not fearing, not thinking. I have forgotten, foresaken, and left it to float alone in the depths of my once-active imagination. If people never forget, then they never have to remember. Sure, I miss my dragon, who protected me during those long dark nights. But sometimes, just sometimes, you could catch me smiling in my sleep. My dragon has returned.


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