chalmatia

Whenever we visit my sister, we take the kids for a walk down to the canal at the end of the street. When they were younger, we’d make up stories about aliens and alligators and fairies living in and around this magical bank. Now that they are older and more cynical, it becomes increasingly difficult to spin a believable tale. But recently I have heard the older ones telling those nostalgic and fantastical tales to the little ones. They add action and adventure, and the stories become part of the mythology of our tribe. The aliens will rise again, the dogs will fight alligators to save us, and the fairies will circle as as the sun sets and we walk home at dusk.