Tiny Magical Stories: A collection of Microfiction Follow story

“Sometimes your story doesn’t do what I say it should,” my children told me.

“But ‘it’s my story, and you can write your own.”

“Aren’t you in control?” my children asked me.

They don’t understand.

My daughter scratches me. “Please read me a story.”

I do control it, somewhat. I change, edit, and shape, but the story leaves my brain with other ideas on paper. Nothing was from me, for ideas were worthless. It was as if the tired, dreaming parts of my brain held a portal.

Everything is real. It’s not just make-believe.

But the stories fuel my little ones, and they want another.

They are not always my stories but theirs too.