I have always wanted an imaginary friend. When I turned 22 I imagined that I had an imaginary friend when I was 6 years old. When I turned 23 I started to draw pictures of what he would look like: black with beady eyes. At 24 he turned into a greenish monster and morphed into glass every time we played hide and seek. At 25 I decided that I didn?t need him anymore. I was all grown up and was embarrassed about the bear figurine I made for my desk at work, meant to keep me company in my little windowless office. I packed him away when I was 25½ and became too busy for playing.
When I turned 26, I blew out the candles and wished for my alien mother ship, my black beady eyed friend and a giant bear. I now ride the train to work with a glass friend in my pocket, a bear in my bag and a conversation with the little dust bunny in the crack of the window seal, populated by three little villages and a bug. I still get embarrassed. But I do it anyway...
