Once, a very long time ago, at least as far as our protagonist is concerned, there was a small girl. She was an extraordinary girl, though you needed the right perspective to see it. You see, not so many people can see the wonder of a child anymore. They have been overwhelmed by the deluge and distractions of modern life and no longer see details and potential. Anyway, this little girl was quite extraordinary.
One morning, long before the rest of the world would awake, for entire adventures could happen in the imagination before then, her eyes opened in that darkest of darknesses before the dawn. It really wasn't so dark, as the clock had lights, and her parents still left the hall light on in the night so the bar of light beneath the door was like a nightlight, but we all know the cliche, so it was darkest before the dawn. So there.
Now, there is no understanding why there was a clock in her room. At four years old, her life was not one of rigorous schedules, and even if it was, she hadn't learned to read yet, but still she loved to look at the glowing lights in the darkness. Sometimes, she even saw them change, melting from one to the next like, well, like something. But this is not a story of the lights.
What kind of story is it, you ask? Honestly, I don't know? I'm not even sure she knows. Maybe we will just wait and see? How about that, dear reader? Shall we wait and see what kind of story this is? I mean, there is an extraordinary little girl, isn't that enough? No? Oh well. I guess we can't have a story without a theme.
I don't have a theme. I don't know what she did that morning. I was hoping to find out as I wrote this, but there you are. Many rambling words and not a point nor theme to be found.
Sally opened her eyes, eyes so innocent and happy they nearly glowed in the darkness, and saw the darkness above her bed. Some children her age were afraid of the darkness, but not Sally. She knew that in the darkness lived imagination, and her imagination was bright with things she didn't know the name of, but which we would call hope, joy, fun, play, and excitement. Sally had never learned the world contained things to be afraid of. It wasn't that she was too protected. Sure, she had burned her hand on the hot stove once, and fell off the swings in the park that one time and had bloody hands and knees, but the darkness had never contained monsters. She was a fortunate child.
Staring into the darkness, Sally's imagination started to play. She closed her eyes, and pressed her tiny little hands against them, and watched the dancing lights to see shapes emerge, then opened her eyes again. Strangely, when she opened her eyes, the shapes she had seen were still there. Dancing fairies, shimmering butterflies, and one single dragon, peering coyly from the other side of the room.
Sally smiled and giggled, but just when the figures began to get organized, there was a scratching at the door. Each of the lights faded and winked out, the tiny figures going back from whence they had come. Sally climbed out of bed, laying her belly flat across the mattress and dangling her feet as she slowly slipped closer to the ground, then padded over to the door in her pajamas.
Opening the door, she smiled at Boots, the tiny black kitten with white socks. Boots mewed, and Sally picked him up. Carrying him back to the bed, she placed him by her pillow, ponderously climbed back into bed, and lay her head down next to him.
Boots purred and snuggled up against her cheek, and in mere moments, both were sound asleep again.