You know how it goes. It’s night. The lights are off. When you look into the corner of your room, there’s someone sitting there who shouldn’t be there. Whoever it is, they wear dark clothes, and an even darker expression on their face. They don’t move, but you’re staring so intently at this mysterious person you forget the window is open. The curtains flutter with a sudden breeze and your heart does its own kind of fluttering. You didn’t expect the movement to come from somewhere other than the mystery guest, the burglar, the psychopathic serial murderer who snuck into your house to admire your neck…and why isn’t the psycho moving? Why isn’t the malicious intruder startled by the sudden movement of the curtains next to him? Because he’s a psycho, of course.
You fumble to find the light switch. The light momentarily blinds, but once you’re used to it you can see the psycho is only that shirt and jacket you threw on the chair earlier. You’ve done this before, so why don’t you remember?
The whole ridiculous scenario makes you laugh. Your imagination just found murder and death and fear in a pile of clothes. Where else could it take you? To musical landscapes? To lazy, serene Armageddons? To placebo psychedelic episodes?
Accidental poisonings and extra limbs and the far reaches of an alternate universe and the things living secretly underground and seven levels of enlightenment all have one thing in common—your imagination.
With your imagination, a simple stick can be a sword, a gun, a staff, a magic wand, a pet snake, a shovel, an arrow, a bow, a horse, a spear, an antler, a machete, a telescope, a lever, an axe, a metric, a tower, a tree, an alligator, firewood, an arm bone, a crutch, a relic from a lost civilization, an alien device, a paintbrush, a whip, a baseball bat, a pool cue, a motorcycle, and even a magical key to unlock the treasure chest to more mysteries.
Don’t even get me started on what your imagination can make out of a rock.