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Let's pretend

Magic lies scattered in the phrase “let's pretend”. Halloween everyday. There's an invitation there to become all you want, all you've ever dreamed you'd be. When we were small, my sister, friends and I would wrap ourselves about with play, en-cloak our worlds in imagining. We were queens of Andromeda, explorers on Orbiter; we were passengers on that great ship BELIEF. It was Utopian in scope and days stretched throughout summer into volumes of story: each chapter pulled from yesterdays game. Proustian these crumbs march and I smile with the fragrance of rosemary, taking myself back to bare feet on red dirt, swept country cottages, dusty shelves in haunted mansions, riding unicorns across the desert. These tales were true I knew, I still know, somewhere in the depth of memory. We pulled not from dreaming but from a truth stranger still. Perhaps we were the recollections of stars? And cling to them still I sit at my keys with my reams of papers scribbling, frantic to

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