In a world of pure imagination

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He's probably a Power Ranger, working a special move, conversing with allies only he can see. When I was his age, I had a friend named Melinda. We went everywhere together. She sat beside me at the dinner table and played with me in my room. Until one day, I heard myself talking to myself. Our chatty conversation jammed in my throat, like in those dreams where you open your mouth but words won't come out. I never spoke to Melinda again, but she never really left. Because she is me. So today, I don't rush his imagination. I stand back and zoom in. I pretend I don't see him. But I do. 

This is the latest in a series I'm exploring for August, "Awakening". To read all of the entries from this series, click here.