The Great Deceiver

I remember when we first met. I was 5yrs old. I was playing just beyond the forest line behind my family’s home. My imagination was wide open. Playing with pixies and elves and ewoks. Then, a centaur arrived. You were with him.

No sooner had you introduced yourselves, did an atmosphere of  heavy fog decend apon this wooded area. My imaginary friends scampered out from under the wet blanket that was hampering down all around us.

 I became soo cold rite though to the middle of my bones. Paralyzing. I couldn’t move. As you approached me, I became warmer. So, I tried to back away only to become frozen again when I reached the boundary of your presence.

As the centaur kept watch from a distance, you displayed your secrets for me, as though you and I were best friends. You offered new experiences and had me believe they were things I would be learning if only I had a father.

You would leave as suddenly as you came. Leaving me to clean myself off with leaves and collect my articles that have been strewn about. Leaving me alone, as though my performance was to be shamed for lack of skill. You would always leave me hoping for just one more chance that I may not disappoint you.