When I was little I believed days had colours. Monday was blue, Tuesday was red, Wednesday was white, and etc. It wasn’t on purpose, I would instantly picture them that way. That should have been my first clue.

Later, I found myself pretending to others that the wind was at my command. I was four. And though some were skeptical, I saw in others a glint that made a light switch on. That glint was in their eyes, the “what if?” What if I had been telling the truth? And they would watch, in wonder, eyeing the sky with me, as I parted clouds and recited chants of my own making to make the wind go here and there.

Later still, I assured them I could read. Kids would gather around at recess, unaware that I held in my hands a children’s book about saints, when actually I convinced them it was a story about knights and fairies. I was six, and on the edge of opening doors that would never ever close.

As I grew older, it became hard for me to befriend other girls, since I was growing up with boys, girls were a mystery to me. Yet by the age of 9, I had found a way. I gathered them all, still at recess, and we sat on the concrete, staring at the sky as I explained a witch had imprisoned a princess in the clouds, and if we didn’t act fast, she would die. I’m not sure any of them believed me, but they became addicted, as I was, to our little story gathering. Anything suspicious I would spot in the school, be it an odd butterfly on the leaves in the yard, or red marks on the walls (that I assured them was the princess’ blood) we would gather some more and they would listen closely as I described what I was seeing in the sky.

Needless to say, I didn’t grow up to be a neurosurgeon (thankfully for my hypothetical patients), but steadily writing, as well as reading, became a life-long obsession. I don’t think it’s something you can control, but rather try and catalyse. I also don’t think it’s something to keep in a corner of your mind, but  rather that it needs to be shared. Characters and stories are lonely, flat and withering, unless they are seen by the eyes of others, until they take shape in the minds of strangers. With that as my main goal, I would like to share with you some of these stories. A few that I have been building up throughout the years, others that I have just started working on.

And hopefully, they will be as alive for you as they are for me đŸ˜‰