Note: I just had this huge urge to write about a girl who I would name Candice. And just if you’re thinking of gifting me something right now, you know what I want. Really.
Candice threw another stone across the shallow pool, and watched the ripples in the water reach the white walls at the end, breaking softly. Candice with her vivid imagination could already imagine the white foam of crashing waves onto the beach, and the blue deep sea become sheer nothingness at the feet of the brown and golden sands.
Candice could even imagine herself in that sea water, sitting and being swayed by the waves as they rushed to their death. Candice loved it. Her imagination, not the sea. Because the sea was permanent, while her imagination could create one whenever she wanted and dry it up if she cared.
Candice sighed and went back inside. She would like to imagine the Great Canyon now. Maybe she would finally think up something more interesting than falling off it. Seriously. Boring.
Candice went over to her desk, pulled out a Mars Bar from her stash in the top drawer, and flopped down on the pillow. Mars. Should she dream about aliens? Nope. She had already imagined them in every possible colour, except skin of course, and they had gone from vintage Roman to cut-edge scientific.
Candice threw the empty wrapper in the bin, having now perfected this daily routine. Maybe the bin should be a frog-mutant? Or a fairy-cleaner? But fairy’s don’t look like cleaners and frogs are mutant enough without being mutant.
Candice soon fell into a deep sleep, because when you dream, you fall deep. She dreamt beautiful dreams of gigantic Jack-in the-boxes playing with children, tossing them in the air and catching them, of white and orange roses flying in the sky in the shining beaks of migrating pelicans, of bronze coins clinking down someone’s piggy bank, and of love.