by Larry A. Kayser
In a funk? Bored? Lack inspiration? I hear you; it happens to me too. What do I do? I rely on my imagination. My imagination bails me out every time.
And it’s really good for getting me out of jams. No matter how hard I try to “behave”, it seems I have no trouble getting into trouble.
Like just last month, three bullies were following me home after detention. They looked hot and miserable, so I figured they’d welcome a cool dousing from the fire hydrant. They figured otherwise, and chased me into the basement of my apartment house.
I was trapped, but did I freak out? Heck, no. I knew my trusty imagination would come to my rescue. What was that sticking out of a garbage can? A busted fishing rod? Nope. It was a magic wand. With it, I could do anything. Well, maybe not as much as He-Who’s-Sold-A-Zillion-Books, but I could surely transform those louts into something less menacing.
I emitted a horrific wail, jumped as high as I could, waved my wand, and one of them poofed into a groveling whimposaurus. Another dreadful howl, another zigzag slash of my magical baton, and the second one was a sedatebovinibit. That’s a cross between a cow and a rabbit.
As for bully number three, what should I morph him into? A timidipede, a zebropotamus, a side order of fries? It didn’t matter ‘cause I never got the chance. He flew up the stairs and blasted out of there as if his pants were ignited. Needless to say, but I’ll say it anyway, I’ve not been harassed by those ruffians since.
And then, playing softball the other day, I clobbered the best line drive of my life. It sailed high and far. Unfortunately, it went in the wrong direction, way behind home plate, smashing into Mr. Thistlegrump’s greenhouse.
Now, Mr. Thistlegrump, as you can guess from his name which I just made up, is not a very pleasant fellow. He’s so loathsome that unborn babies cry whenever he walks by. His gaze rusts stainless steel. He makes a cactus feel like a plush Kermit. Next to him, my arithmetic teacher seems almost human.
Anyhow, instead of running for cover, which would only have postponed my demise, I rushed to the greenhouse, with my imagination at full tilt. Before the ogre could start his rant and rave, I let out a sigh of relief, saying, “Oh wow, I was afraid that the orb might have hit you, Mr. Thistlegrump, and not just your fixable glass roof.”
“Huh? Orb? But how? Where? When?” he blubbered.
“Me and my friends saw the orb soar over the playground fence, Mr. Thistlegrump,” I explained in my most soothing voice. “We think it originally came from a place called Pitchersmound.”
“Why? Who? What?” the codger continued his blather.
“Here, let me tidy this up for you, Mr. Thistlegrump,” I said, flicking glass shards off of some copper-colored leafy thingy.
He dolefully muttered, “Priceless alocasia cuprea,” or somesuch.
After pretty much clearing away the worst of the breakage, I said, “I’m leaving now, Mr. Thistlegrump. I’ll take the orb with me so that it doesn’t do any more damage to your cherished collection of prize-winning flora.”
He grudgingly gave me a potted petunia to show his appreciation.
I felt a little bit guilty about that. But hey, I had protected him from an alien invasion, hadn’t I?
Since a petunia is as worthwhile to me as a library card, I gave it to Mom when I finally got home. She was so pleased, she totally forgot about that morning’s experiment with the toaster and the banana... but that’s another story.
So there you have it. Whether you’re feeling yucky, need a topic for a creative writing assignment, or find yourself in hot water, just depend on your imagination. It’s always available. It’s free. And, as you can see, it works.
Copyright © 2010 by Larry A. Kayser