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#Tinytales#1




“Did I really paint this? Did I really expect mountains to be black, leaves to be grey, the sky to be orange and sun to be blue?” he wondered as he took a silent ride to the past - his drawing book. It was bundled with the dust on the outside but wonderfully innocent in its imagination on the inside. Those drawings on the pages, whose weight he can still feel on his shoulder, were unhinged in its creativity, unparalleled in its curiosity and unsophisticated in its naivety. Using crayons to paint the water green, drawing a guy with three noses and one eye, asking the moon to be up in the middle of the day, and letting the stars know that flipping the coin will decide their fate that day, the book had everything but reality.

“I am still the king in my own world, am I not?” he pondered as he closed the book with a smile on his face. He realized that reality bounds the innocence of creativity, why not let the imagination take over for a while.

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