A dream

For many, many years I have had a dream. It is a dream that formed as soon as I was old enough to both appreciate a good story and write meaningful sentences. The home-made mini storybooks, consisting of multiple folded over pieces of A4 white paper, stapled together and filled with the contents of my childhood imagination, are testimony to that dream. Then until my mid teens, the dream was something I felt would inevitably materialise into reality once I was a grown-up. The multiple stories that have been salvaged from our first nineties desktop computer and still exist on my current computer, alongside newer, more viable tales are testimony to that feeling of surity. Continue reading