I had this weird idea when I was a kid that after I fell asleep at night, I’d go out and have wild and crazy adventures as an entirely different person. It’s probably because I read one of those kid-friendly adaptations of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but I distinctly remember fantasizing that I was a witch, complete with pointy hat and broomstick, swearing that I’d remember the night’s adventures this time.
As an adult, I have a suspicion that I wasn’t actually doing anything more exciting than dreaming. I don’t think that the desire for a secret double life is all that uncommon; aside from daydreaming about being a secret witch, I imagined or made believe that I was somehow related to all kinds of other fantasy beings. Fairies, werewolves, wizards, vampires, gods–anything that wasn’t a boring old human.
Unfortunately, I am a boring old human. Writing is kind of a way to get around that, I suppose, and less people look at you funny if pretending is written down rather than acted out.
Anyway, here’s a drabble.