Yesterday, the Imp and I read a most provocative post prompt. The “Brand New You, Effective Tomorrow,” was very interesting to me—I have a secret itch to be the hula hoop artist in Cirque du Soleil—but Wallie was indignant. He couldn’t think of anyone he would rather be.
He told my friend in Impish (the language of the Imps) that he wouldn’t be anyone with less than eight arms and six eyes. I don’t know why he didn’t throw in two heads. But he was very adamant, and that was that.
It has been a long time since Wallie last posted anything. For this he apologizes. It has not been an easy November (or December) for the poor little imp. This is our response to the Daily Prompt–relating a time when ‘everything seemed to be going wrong and then, suddenly, you knew it would be right.’
This didn’t necessarily happen to ourselves. Sometimes, you have to meet the real world with fantasy. So: ‘The Mouth of Wagoc.’
When Wallie the Imp, my Friend, and I heard the prompt for today’s post, courtesy of The Daily Post—“Write a letter to your 14-year-old self”—we rushed to grab our pens and paper. I sat at the table, my Friend took the armchair, and the Imp was on top of the refrigerator.