Member-only story
A Little Magic Goes a Long Way
I’m hopping over moonbeams and trying to catch shooting stars.
There’s no doubt that magic has saved me more than a few times.
Just the thought of it — of being so easily engulfed by the waves of a good fairy tale — is enough to set me at ease. Even at my worst, when I was staring dull-eyed into the faces of people who didn’t care a whit about me, I was still looping my favorite stories like a reel in my brain.
They were comfort. They were hope. They were sanctuaries in invisible forms.
I would blanket myself in words and close my eyes, willing myself away to another plane of being. Books, songs, poems — it didn’t matter. All I needed was a quick jolt of a turn of phrase to transport me elsewhere in the cosmos.
Escapism is often seen as an obstacle between people and things like family, friends, careers, what have you. “She’s got her head in the clouds all the time,” a well-meaning teacher might have said on a progress report. “She needs to daydream less and focus more.” Imagination is the child’s play meant to be left behind at recess, and you’re supposed to outgrow it — eventually.
My problem, I guess, is that I never did manage to shrug out of the cocoon that was my imagination. But I was able to pass by easily because I…
