27 May 2015
» » » It’s almost ritual now. Whenever we visit the kids, we take a run down to the canal at the end of the road. One time we found some boys catching turtles. Another time we saw the alligator slip into the water. When the kids were young, we found aliens and monsters and ghosts. We walked along landscapes of our boundless collective imagination. Now they are entering high school, and it becomes increasingly difficult to spin a tale that they believe. But sometimes now, one of them will take up the story and send it in a new direction. That is how I know we are passing on the gift of narrative. The gift of telling beautiful lies. #fiction #beautifulLies #family

It’s almost ritual now. Whenever we visit the kids, we take a run down to the canal at the end of the road. One time we found some boys catching turtles. Another time we saw the alligator slip into the water. When the kids were young, we found aliens and monsters and ghosts. We walked along landscapes of our boundless collective imagination. Now they are entering high school, and it becomes increasingly difficult to spin a tale that they believe. But sometimes now, one of them will take up the story and send it in a new direction. That is how I know we are passing on the gift of narrative. The gift of telling beautiful lies. #fiction #beautifulLies #family

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It's almost ritual now. Whenever we visit the kids, we take a run down to the canal at the end of the road. One time we found some boys catching turtles. Another time we saw the alligator slip into the water. When the kids were young, we found aliens and monsters and ghosts. We walked along landscapes of our boundless collective imagination. Now they are entering high school, and it becomes increasingly difficult to spin a tale that they believe. But sometimes now, one of them will take up the story and send it in a new direction. That is how I know we are passing on the gift of narrative. The gift of telling beautiful lies. #fiction #beautifulLies #family