sevilator
I have always made up stories in my head. When I was younger, though, I would attempt to make others believe them. For example, I convinced my kindergarten that I was an alien who had white hard blood and red runny bones.
The route to the gift shop from my high school was boring until I came home from college. I had traveled it every day for four years. Waiting for the bus in the cold foggy Pac Heights, getting of in the sunny but windy Castro.
He looked again at the coin he was holding. One wish would make it all go away, right? He remembered that Louise was standing there with him and he took a deep breath "I wish that I were an elephant again", he said before he could change his mind.
I love mythology. I grew up reading Dulaire's Book of Greek Myths. Everything I read seems to be seeped in the mythologies of various cultures, and my knowledge of those myths gives me a deeper understanding than I would otherwise have had when I read them.
I see a lamp. It has monkeys hanging from it. Clearly, it is not where monkeys should be. They should be in the wild, not hanging from a lamp, but it is obvious to me that they are there. Should I rescue them? They are wooden, maybe they would not do well in the wild. Perhaps they are native lamp monkeys and need no interference from me.
It was obvious to her that she needed to get out of the way of the bus, but she couldn't think how to. Anybody else in that position would have simply run to the other side of the street, but she didn't realize that was an option.