My feet pick their way gingerly, for the floor is strewn with bodies. Bodies of tiny plastic warriors, along with their dismembered limbs, plastic guns, swords, knives and alien blasters. Leaving the hallway, my feet cross shark-infested carpet, where pirate ships with tall sails loom to challenge all trespassers. With a series of mighty leaps, I escape the tall ships only to become enmeshed in a maze of wires, at one end of which is a roaring amphibious monster shedding deadly swarms of vile, slimy offspring. At the other end is my own offspring, one of five sons, doing electronic battle with fierce, relentless glee.
These five sons and I fuel each other’s imaginary acts of daring. They surround me with the images, props and verbage of great deeds. With plastic weapons and a trampoline as a battleground, they enact action scenes from my stories, helping me, a sedentary programmer (by day), to visualize and choreograph with greater credibility. When they use and expand upon that scene in their own play, I eagerly create another, inspired by having inspired.
And, they set the scene for the heroic journey I take daily. With intellectual and strategic prowess, I solve once again the maze of wires and enter at last the refuge of the kitchen. There, the final quest begins: the search for that most elusive, yet most sought-after of prizes–a cup clean enough for tea.
Currently I drive wolves from the door by working as variable print programmer. My allies include five sons, a husband, three cats, a cockatiel, and imaginary friends from my writing. I have been known to play flute for weddings, sing at Christmas parties, and bellydance in people’s basements.
M. C. Chambers 