Ideabird 8/17/12

His imagination never stopped, and it haunted him. He built up stories, movies, songs, plays, operas in his mind, but never had the time to record them. They say that each story is like your own child. Everywhere he went he saw the ghosts of all those children unborn, the stories never told. A number would remind him of a character he meant to write. A sunset would remind him of a film he meant to shoot. He loved those pieces he'd created, but everywhere he was haunted by those dream unwritten. And he knew that even the paltry half-life they had would perish with him.

© Tony Jonick 2013