Unique New York

A slightly delayed (sorry!) September Long Story. Live(ish) from New York.

When I was little, I conjured up my own imaginary friend.

Now. Before you judge me - at the time, it seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do. I had after all spent the first formative years of my life watching my older brother hang out with his companion, Banquo (how he as a child knew a Shakespeare reference continues to baffle me). And my cousin entertaining her not one but two imaginary friends, Ickena and Dickena. Twins! The gluttony of it.
I kept thinking that one day, my turn would come. That, as I was building fairy gardens in the backyard or blanket forts in my room, they would appear. I believed wholeheartedly that my friend was coming. But - no dice.

So I took matters into my hands. Dinky was born.

I remember where and when this occurred very clearly. I was home, playing on the green veranda that wrapped around the house. It was late afternoon, a Sunday. My mum must have been taking a nap and I suppose my father and brother were out. I suddenly grew tired of the solitude. I sat on the cold concrete floor and with all my might, imagined it into being. I decided it should be a bright pink dragon/ dinosaur, with purple scales and a goofy grin. It had a tail that knocked things over. I spent potentially an hour focusing on clearly seeing every detail of my colourful pal, but once I visualised it in its entirety,