The word made image made word again

"If I turned my daydreams into a book every time I had one, I could fill Ralph Willett's "Merly Library". Easily."

"If any of my daydreams turned real (turned out to be true?), I would still have daydreams - but not about what my life would be."

*Medium Scriptum: Neither are quotes. Could be though. Will be, who knows.*

My latest daydream involved meeting Emma Watson during my daily walk on the shore and playing hopscotch with her. We didn't kiss, didn't hold hands. Nor was porn involved. She was wearing a complete, head-to-toe winter outfit. I wouldn't have guessed she was smiling but for the tiny wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. She was on vacation, away from everything and everyone. She didn't want to meet anyone who might recognise her. I did, but it being my daydream, it was fine. She spoke with an almost perfect French accent. She hopscotched very well. At one point, while it was my turn to play, she took out a steaming mug of hot chocolate from one of her pockets. I stepped out of the box because of the smell and when I complained that she had been cheating, she just smiled. My arms fell limp at my sides. She came to me, put the mug into my hands and said "drink". Then with her foot she wiped the side of the box, picked up a twig and with it drew a larger box so that my foot fitted into it again. She had made my day. We played for hours on end, chitchatting about this and that. Finally she said she had to leave for Mexico, she waved at me like mad, like she was very far from me (she was standing just three feet away) and then spun around and walked away, leaving no footsteps in the sand. I lost track of her in a sunshaft.

I don't know anything about her (I guess few do), apart from her role in the Harry Potter movies. Which is heaven in a handbasket when you daydream: the less you know someone, the more you can invent him or her. I don't know if she is as lenient as I dreamt her to be, but the other good thing about daydreams is that even bad people can be good. But I guess she is, naturally.

Dear Emma (I hope we're now on a name-to-name basis, having hopscotched in the sand - which is so difficult), I apologise from the bottom of my heart if I offended you by daydreaming about you and writing about it. But I can't control the content of my daydreams (well, I can, but once you popped in, I wanted you to stay ^_^). I'll be happy to nuance this blogpost and have you smack me behind the ears, if thou wilt.

Emma dear, woman of my daydreams, please take care.