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Description
Life in my reality is pretty simple. You get up, do all the basic essential civilized things and then you just stop and think. That’s all, you think. You wait for something to hit you. It could be an object or a new type of creature. It could be as abstract as a new color or as simple as thinking a fish spine would look elegant on a pegasus. After you get the idea solid within your mind, you say your release phrase and, poof, it appears before you. No hard work or manual labor. Just instant imagination creation. You have to sacrifice your body to do it, but you get to keep the physical manifestation of your idea and your body always grows back… Well, to a point. You have to sacrifice your lifespan in order to grow back your body. A couple months are a small price to pay to bring a little more wonder into this world. Like today I’m planning on creating a
“Hey Chris, whacha workin on?” I jump in my seat, drop my pencil, and swivel my work chair around so I can see my roommate, Penny. Figures she’d show up now, while I’m working on something. Half an hour ago I was fiddling with a puzzle box, why couldn’t she have shown up then?
“Just journaling, nothing major. I was just about to write about the creature I’m going to create today. It’s going to be great and I’ll bring it forth to the imagination collaboration tonight. I think everyone is going to love it.” I say, beaming at her. She smiles, revealing cute dimples on an already cute face. She looks over my shoulder at my scribbles, her dirty blond curls cascading over my chest. I take the opportunity to inhale her scent. Lavender, from her shampoo I’m sure, but I love the smell anyway.
“This sounds strange. This is information everyone already knows. Why write it down?” She asks while picking up my paper and standing back up. I straighten in my seat and pretend I didn’t just do. If it doesn’t affect her, it doesn’t affect me.
“It helps me, okay. Sometimes I forget things, you know that. I thought if I write it down I might not forget again, okay? Is that alright with you?” I ask her, some of my frustration at being interrupted seeping into my tone. She shrugs and flicks the paper off to the side. I try to catch it, but my clumsy hands reach in the spot it used to be and it falls on the floor anyway. She giggles. Of course she does, it’s not like she’s hurting anyone, she’s just throwing my stuff around. Why would she care?
“Do as you wish. I’m gonna go take a shower. Please wait to create it till I’m out of the house. Also, I don’t want to come home to a wreck, so make sure to clean up after it. Oh, and please, for the love of all that is creative, don’t take on anything too big. Remember the teddy bear incident, please,” she says. Yep, right on time. She’s using those damn puppy dog eyes to manipulate me, but it won’t work. My idea is smaller than I am this time. I roll my eyes and nod.
“I remember it. Of course I do, how could I forget? I was put on the front step by police and had to wait until you came home! Don’t worry; it’s no bigger than chimeras other people have made,” I say. She looks at my skeptically, but nods.
“Alright. Just be careful and take a snapshot of it for me, if you can.” She says before running off. I see her disappear into the bathroom and hear the soft thud of the door being closed. I pick up the paper and pencil that fell onto the floor and swivel back around to the desk. I read just the first few lines of page to get an idea of where I was and then find the first empty line on the page. Time to get back to my writing.
At the same time everyone gains this power they pick their two release phrases: one to create your idea and one to regrow your limbs. We do everything we can to keep those secret because it doesn’t have to be us that speaks them in order for it to release us. No one wants an unintentional creation or an accidental change to themselves. That’s why you pick strange words that are never used, or make up one yourself. I heard my Dad say his once, Popalopagoos. I heard it when I was three, there’s a story there, but it’s long and not the point… One of these days I’ll just write down all of my absurd stories all at once. It’ll be called the Imaginative Adventures Of Chris. Wow, that sounds odd. My name is too… ordinary for this title. I’ll call it the Imaginative Adventures Of Caltonia… Nope, sounds like a state… And has nothing to do with me personally… Anyway, I’ll come up with a name for this awesome biography in a later entry. Now then, I suppose I should talk about my creation. It’s going to be a mix of a few chimeras I’ve seen before with just a little bit extra bite. It’ll knock their socks off. Now, what it will be specifically is part
“Good luck, I’m sure they’ll love your creature. See ya.” Penny calls out to me. I look up only to see the door close behind her. I smile and look down at my paper. I shrug. Might as well go create it instead of sitting here writing about it.
I decide that maybe our apartment isn’t the best place to be creating some new, strange creature and head to the alley behind the building instead. Once down there with the garbage cans behind me reeking of week old sushi I try to focus.
I start by fixing the image of the two creatures that inspire it within my mind: a pegasus and a gryphon. I pick off just the parts of them that I want for my new creation: a horse’s neck and sleek, strong body meant to have wind whipping straight past it; a lion’s strong, agile legs and paws that can rip apart an animal with the same ease as I rip through paper; a hawk’s head meant for catching sight of prey and picking off the smaller animals, as well as the hawk’s wings, large and made to allow access to altitudes many creatures only dream of; and a two headed snake tail, just in case someone sneaks up to it from behind.
I edit the proportions of everything so nothing’s odd or out of place. I tilt the creature this way and that in my head. Not quite... Something’s missing…I tilt it more until I see the empty space where the rider should go. I know! I imagine a large fish fin along the spine of the horse instead of the mundane idea of a rider. That’s perfect! I grin. This is it; I’ve got this year’s contest, paws down. I chuckle at my clever pun for a moment. My face grows tight as I focus all my energy on the creature I’m creating.
“Pandeirlapagoos.” I mutter under my breath. Then I feel it. It sounds like birds flapping their wings and feels like water cascading over every sacrificed cell. I feel it all the way up to my shoulder, and I know before looking, I’ve just sacrificed my right arm. I wait, but the sensation doesn’t come back and I hear a hawks cry. Only one limb? Peanuts compared to what some have cost me. I open my eyes and there it is before me. My creature called… My creature needs a name. I’ll call it…
“Gryphasus, after the creatures that inspired you.” I say to it with a smile. It whinny’s using the hawk’s vocals, which is more of a series of low pitched screeches than a whinny. I actually like it. It’s cute and one of a kind. It’s fitting that its behavior is as unique as it is.
I go over and make a touch up here and there while I’m still in my released state before stepping back and nodding. “You’ll do just fine.” I say with a grin. “Pandeirlapagoos.” I mutter. I feel the power ebb away. I gently rub its side and it in turn rubs its nose against me, which wouldn’t be a problem if it was a horse, but the eagle beak leaves a large whole in my shirt. I sigh.
“I’m going inside to change. Wait for me here.” I say to it as I pat its beak. I think I see understanding in those hawk eyes and leave it there. As I go up the stairs, I think back to my father’s household gryphon. He was always able to give it any command and it would follow it to the letter. Here’s hoping mine is just as smart.
I change all my clothes. I grab the cuff of the dark blue blazer and straighten the sleeve. I smile as I look down at my dark blue pants and light blue undershirt adorned with a Chinese dragon tie. I might as well look good when I go up and claim my prize.
I stop at the desk and look at the paper. I have plenty of time before it starts, I might as well scratch out a few more lines.
I already miss it, the feeling that I can do or create anything. You get addicted after a while. They say I’ve already sacrificed 15 years of my life in the 2 years since I gained this power. I’m 22, going on 35. You get this power during adolescence, but they lock it down until you reach the mature, adult age of 20. I’m glad they do. We probably wouldn’t ever live long enough to propagate if they lifted the age ban. In fact, they are talking about raising it, just so you don’t die too early. I don’t think it’s really gonna work. We’re just going to keep doing as we always have. Some us will die early, and some of us will die later in life. It all depends on luck, self-control and for some, a lack of imagination. Then again, I could never be contained like a lifer is, I’d just feel stifled. I don’t know how Penny manages it, to never use her power, to keep all her years to herself. I don’t understand how she can choose to live instead of create.
I smile at what I’ve written, get up off the chair and head out the door. Time for me to get what I deserve.
It took hours, but it was finally my turn. They sent me over to the three judges in an open field. They all had on colorful outfits made to match what people considered them. The woman in all red was considered out for blood. The man in pink was considered bubblegum nice to the point of not critiquing. The man in all green was considered to stand above the others and to be a fair judge.
“He looks marvelous! Show us what the hunk can do.” The pink one cries out, his voice giddy. Ugh. Could you please act like your wearing pants, for like, ten seconds. I keep the smile plastered on my face though, and I nod at the creature. The creature takes off and starts doing complex spiral patterns and loop-de-loops the instant it’s in the air. They all marvel, as well as I do, at just how wondrous it looks up in the sky. How it looks like it was made to be up there. We watch it for ten minutes and then I signal for it to land.
“This is amazing. You have a real talent for chimeras. And to think, you only used one arm.” The man in pink says with a grin on his face. The gryphasus lifts its head and sniffs around. Even I catch that smell. Ah, the wonderful smell of sushi.
“I see a few odds and ends that need fixing. Like that tail, horrible eye sore that. You should have picked a color besides green; it doesn’t fit the rest of it at all. And that horse body is all wrong for this. You should have chosen a chestnut. Not to mention there’s no room for a rider with that useless fish spin in the way.” The woman in red says. The gryphasus turns its head and licks the sweat sheened fin.
“Well I think it…” The man in green gets interrupted by the sound of tearing of flesh.
Later on that night I write out a note and leave it on the kitchen table, not wanting to face her yet.
Penny,
Do you know what happens when you create a pegasus/gryphon hybrid with a fish spine? Neither did I, but I thought it’d be cool. It turns out, when it puts strain on its body, it sweats. Including the fish spine, and once its predatory parts smell fish, it tries to find the smell. When it does, it begins to devour what it perceives as prey. In this case, that prey is its own spine. It was… gruesome to say the least.
What’s worst of all is it didn’t sweat until I brought it forth to the contemplation collaboration. What an embarrassment that was. Blood went everywhere… and it wasn’t even all the same color. How did I manage to accidentally get three colors of blood in one creature you ask? Well, they told me how I did. I didn’t focus enough and didn’t consider what color to make the creature’s blood, so it was whatever my subconscious felt like creating. That wouldn’t be too bad if I had a useful subconscious, but I don’t. I get the pleasure of a subconscious that is about as consistent as a fortune telling eight ball. Needless to say, my idea didn’t get spread around so that others could marvel at my brilliance and recreate it themselves if they wished.
Sincerely, Chris
P.S. Also, sorry, but no photo. I wanted to take it when the creature had won and get my prize in the photo as well. It’s really too bad, because it was a gorgeous creature. You would have loved it.
P.S.S. Also, don’t move the bathroom curtains. You don’t want to see what my clothes look like, trust me. Tri-colored blood stains is not a pretty sight.

Description
Life in my reality is pretty simple. You get up, do all the basic essential civilized things and then you just stop and think. That’s all, you think. You wait for something to hit you. It could be an object or a new type of creature. It could be as abstract as a new color or as simple as thinking a fish spine would look elegant on a pegasus. After you get the idea solid within your mind, you say your release phrase and, poof, it appears before you. No hard work or manual labor. Just instant imagination creation. You have to sacrifice your body to do it, but you get to keep the physical manifestation of your idea and your body always grows back… Well, to a point. You have to sacrifice your lifespan in order to grow back your body. A couple months are a small price to pay to bring a little more wonder into this world. Like today I’m planning on creating a
“Hey Chris, whacha workin on?” I jump in my seat, drop my pencil, and swivel my work chair around so I can see my roommate, Penny. Figures she’d show up now, while I’m working on something. Half an hour ago I was fiddling with a puzzle box, why couldn’t she have shown up then?
“Just journaling, nothing major. I was just about to write about the creature I’m going to create today. It’s going to be great and I’ll bring it forth to the imagination collaboration tonight. I think everyone is going to love it.” I say, beaming at her. She smiles, revealing cute dimples on an already cute face. She looks over my shoulder at my scribbles, her dirty blond curls cascading over my chest. I take the opportunity to inhale her scent. Lavender, from her shampoo I’m sure, but I love the smell anyway.
“This sounds strange. This is information everyone already knows. Why write it down?” She asks while picking up my paper and standing back up. I straighten in my seat and pretend I didn’t just do. If it doesn’t affect her, it doesn’t affect me.
“It helps me, okay. Sometimes I forget things, you know that. I thought if I write it down I might not forget again, okay? Is that alright with you?” I ask her, some of my frustration at being interrupted seeping into my tone. She shrugs and flicks the paper off to the side. I try to catch it, but my clumsy hands reach in the spot it used to be and it falls on the floor anyway. She giggles. Of course she does, it’s not like she’s hurting anyone, she’s just throwing my stuff around. Why would she care?
“Do as you wish. I’m gonna go take a shower. Please wait to create it till I’m out of the house. Also, I don’t want to come home to a wreck, so make sure to clean up after it. Oh, and please, for the love of all that is creative, don’t take on anything too big. Remember the teddy bear incident, please,” she says. Yep, right on time. She’s using those damn puppy dog eyes to manipulate me, but it won’t work. My idea is smaller than I am this time. I roll my eyes and nod.
“I remember it. Of course I do, how could I forget? I was put on the front step by police and had to wait until you came home! Don’t worry; it’s no bigger than chimeras other people have made,” I say. She looks at my skeptically, but nods.
“Alright. Just be careful and take a snapshot of it for me, if you can.” She says before running off. I see her disappear into the bathroom and hear the soft thud of the door being closed. I pick up the paper and pencil that fell onto the floor and swivel back around to the desk. I read just the first few lines of page to get an idea of where I was and then find the first empty line on the page. Time to get back to my writing.
At the same time everyone gains this power they pick their two release phrases: one to create your idea and one to regrow your limbs. We do everything we can to keep those secret because it doesn’t have to be us that speaks them in order for it to release us. No one wants an unintentional creation or an accidental change to themselves. That’s why you pick strange words that are never used, or make up one yourself. I heard my Dad say his once, Popalopagoos. I heard it when I was three, there’s a story there, but it’s long and not the point… One of these days I’ll just write down all of my absurd stories all at once. It’ll be called the Imaginative Adventures Of Chris. Wow, that sounds odd. My name is too… ordinary for this title. I’ll call it the Imaginative Adventures Of Caltonia… Nope, sounds like a state… And has nothing to do with me personally… Anyway, I’ll come up with a name for this awesome biography in a later entry. Now then, I suppose I should talk about my creation. It’s going to be a mix of a few chimeras I’ve seen before with just a little bit extra bite. It’ll knock their socks off. Now, what it will be specifically is part
“Good luck, I’m sure they’ll love your creature. See ya.” Penny calls out to me. I look up only to see the door close behind her. I smile and look down at my paper. I shrug. Might as well go create it instead of sitting here writing about it.
I decide that maybe our apartment isn’t the best place to be creating some new, strange creature and head to the alley behind the building instead. Once down there with the garbage cans behind me reeking of week old sushi I try to focus.
I start by fixing the image of the two creatures that inspire it within my mind: a pegasus and a gryphon. I pick off just the parts of them that I want for my new creation: a horse’s neck and sleek, strong body meant to have wind whipping straight past it; a lion’s strong, agile legs and paws that can rip apart an animal with the same ease as I rip through paper; a hawk’s head meant for catching sight of prey and picking off the smaller animals, as well as the hawk’s wings, large and made to allow access to altitudes many creatures only dream of; and a two headed snake tail, just in case someone sneaks up to it from behind.
I edit the proportions of everything so nothing’s odd or out of place. I tilt the creature this way and that in my head. Not quite... Something’s missing…I tilt it more until I see the empty space where the rider should go. I know! I imagine a large fish fin along the spine of the horse instead of the mundane idea of a rider. That’s perfect! I grin. This is it; I’ve got this year’s contest, paws down. I chuckle at my clever pun for a moment. My face grows tight as I focus all my energy on the creature I’m creating.
“Pandeirlapagoos.” I mutter under my breath. Then I feel it. It sounds like birds flapping their wings and feels like water cascading over every sacrificed cell. I feel it all the way up to my shoulder, and I know before looking, I’ve just sacrificed my right arm. I wait, but the sensation doesn’t come back and I hear a hawks cry. Only one limb? Peanuts compared to what some have cost me. I open my eyes and there it is before me. My creature called… My creature needs a name. I’ll call it…
“Gryphasus, after the creatures that inspired you.” I say to it with a smile. It whinny’s using the hawk’s vocals, which is more of a series of low pitched screeches than a whinny. I actually like it. It’s cute and one of a kind. It’s fitting that its behavior is as unique as it is.
I go over and make a touch up here and there while I’m still in my released state before stepping back and nodding. “You’ll do just fine.” I say with a grin. “Pandeirlapagoos.” I mutter. I feel the power ebb away. I gently rub its side and it in turn rubs its nose against me, which wouldn’t be a problem if it was a horse, but the eagle beak leaves a large whole in my shirt. I sigh.
“I’m going inside to change. Wait for me here.” I say to it as I pat its beak. I think I see understanding in those hawk eyes and leave it there. As I go up the stairs, I think back to my father’s household gryphon. He was always able to give it any command and it would follow it to the letter. Here’s hoping mine is just as smart.
I change all my clothes. I grab the cuff of the dark blue blazer and straighten the sleeve. I smile as I look down at my dark blue pants and light blue undershirt adorned with a Chinese dragon tie. I might as well look good when I go up and claim my prize.
I stop at the desk and look at the paper. I have plenty of time before it starts, I might as well scratch out a few more lines.
I already miss it, the feeling that I can do or create anything. You get addicted after a while. They say I’ve already sacrificed 15 years of my life in the 2 years since I gained this power. I’m 22, going on 35. You get this power during adolescence, but they lock it down until you reach the mature, adult age of 20. I’m glad they do. We probably wouldn’t ever live long enough to propagate if they lifted the age ban. In fact, they are talking about raising it, just so you don’t die too early. I don’t think it’s really gonna work. We’re just going to keep doing as we always have. Some us will die early, and some of us will die later in life. It all depends on luck, self-control and for some, a lack of imagination. Then again, I could never be contained like a lifer is, I’d just feel stifled. I don’t know how Penny manages it, to never use her power, to keep all her years to herself. I don’t understand how she can choose to live instead of create.
I smile at what I’ve written, get up off the chair and head out the door. Time for me to get what I deserve.
It took hours, but it was finally my turn. They sent me over to the three judges in an open field. They all had on colorful outfits made to match what people considered them. The woman in all red was considered out for blood. The man in pink was considered bubblegum nice to the point of not critiquing. The man in all green was considered to stand above the others and to be a fair judge.
“He looks marvelous! Show us what the hunk can do.” The pink one cries out, his voice giddy. Ugh. Could you please act like your wearing pants, for like, ten seconds. I keep the smile plastered on my face though, and I nod at the creature. The creature takes off and starts doing complex spiral patterns and loop-de-loops the instant it’s in the air. They all marvel, as well as I do, at just how wondrous it looks up in the sky. How it looks like it was made to be up there. We watch it for ten minutes and then I signal for it to land.
“This is amazing. You have a real talent for chimeras. And to think, you only used one arm.” The man in pink says with a grin on his face. The gryphasus lifts its head and sniffs around. Even I catch that smell. Ah, the wonderful smell of sushi.
“I see a few odds and ends that need fixing. Like that tail, horrible eye sore that. You should have picked a color besides green; it doesn’t fit the rest of it at all. And that horse body is all wrong for this. You should have chosen a chestnut. Not to mention there’s no room for a rider with that useless fish spin in the way.” The woman in red says. The gryphasus turns its head and licks the sweat sheened fin.
“Well I think it…” The man in green gets interrupted by the sound of tearing of flesh.
Later on that night I write out a note and leave it on the kitchen table, not wanting to face her yet.
Penny,
Do you know what happens when you create a pegasus/gryphon hybrid with a fish spine? Neither did I, but I thought it’d be cool. It turns out, when it puts strain on its body, it sweats. Including the fish spine, and once its predatory parts smell fish, it tries to find the smell. When it does, it begins to devour what it perceives as prey. In this case, that prey is its own spine. It was… gruesome to say the least.
What’s worst of all is it didn’t sweat until I brought it forth to the contemplation collaboration. What an embarrassment that was. Blood went everywhere… and it wasn’t even all the same color. How did I manage to accidentally get three colors of blood in one creature you ask? Well, they told me how I did. I didn’t focus enough and didn’t consider what color to make the creature’s blood, so it was whatever my subconscious felt like creating. That wouldn’t be too bad if I had a useful subconscious, but I don’t. I get the pleasure of a subconscious that is about as consistent as a fortune telling eight ball. Needless to say, my idea didn’t get spread around so that others could marvel at my brilliance and recreate it themselves if they wished.
Sincerely, Chris
P.S. Also, sorry, but no photo. I wanted to take it when the creature had won and get my prize in the photo as well. It’s really too bad, because it was a gorgeous creature. You would have loved it.
P.S.S. Also, don’t move the bathroom curtains. You don’t want to see what my clothes look like, trust me. Tri-colored blood stains is not a pretty sight.