Free Reign

A sturdy wooden desk, coated with years of blonde varnish. A rigid plastic chair unfit for Goldilocks or any of the bears. I don’t remember when my feet finally touched the ground. What I do remember is the golden moment that hung in the balance. A white sheet of paper with infinite possibilities before me. The silvery underbelly of cottonwood leaves dancing in the breeze. A pencil the color of sunshine pressed earnestly against my lip.

The waiting.

And when it came, the faithful friend of inspiration, we would smile at one another. The imperceptible nod of twins that needed no language. Gaze broken, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand down the space of my paper we would skip, never looking back.