Recently, I was helping my mother sort through her barn for an upcoming yard sale. I found an old book that I used to love reading. As I thumbed through the pages, something fluttered to the dusty floor. It was a bookmark that I had made a long time ago.
When I read what I wrote on the bookmark, my teen self leaped out in front of me, reminding me of what I once wanted:
I Wish
to be a novelist
my books will be made into movies
to marry Tom Cruise
to draw like a real Disney artist
to meet John Jakes
to live in the Caribbean
to own a horse
At the bottom I signed it, topped off with a little Mickey Mouse head, which had been my ‘insignia’.