By: Serena Zhang
I know a peculiar little man. His face is as round as a penny and his nose is a button. His little smile is curved like a crescent moon and his eyes twinkle like the brightest stars in the sky, full of life and curiosity. His cheeks are perpetually rosy, as if kissed by the sun, and his smile curves upwards as if he’s always on the verge of laughter.
He wears a buttoned green vest that is as vibrant as the finest leaves, and a giant, floppy red stocking hat that is longer than he is. In fact, his hat is so long that it bends from on top of his head and settles on the ground and drags behind him as he walks. The sides are adorned with tiny bells that jingle with every step.
This little man, he is as light as a paperweight. When he is lucky and the weather is just right, he can jump up high and drift down like a paper. He only roams around twice a month, always during noon. He prances around with the grace of a swan, trying to catch butterflies, his laughter ringing like tiny bells. If he feels good, he’ll start running and try to fly! Sometimes, he can step onto the air and remain for some time.
Where does he go on the other days of the month? The truth is, I cannot be sure. Once he mentioned he lives in holes on the ground. Another time he whispered that he rests in hollow trees. But I am almost certain that those were his odd little jokes because I am convinced that he lives in his hat!
His large, drooping hat could certainly fit hit. He would take off his hat with a flourish, place it on the ground, and climb in with laughter! Sometimes he might rest there for days, collecting pillows as soft as clouds, teacups as vibrant as a flower field, and butterflies in jars that glow like lanterns.
It is much bigger inside his enchanted little hat. Inside it is comfy and spacious and full of pillows. There is a small fireplace crackling with ever-warm fire and piles of books filled with fantasy and magic. When the sun sets and the stars peek out, he would climb into his hat and prepare to rest. He would stir a cup of herb tea, fluff up a pillow, and perhaps even read a story to his butterflies! Then he would lay back into the soft folds in the back of his hat and drift into a peaceful long nap.
This little man, he is really not a friend. I don’t talk to him at all! He only exists in my imagination, dancing in the corner of my mind.
Yet, every time I close my eyes, I can see him vividly, prancing my head. He dances in a colorful flower field, his long red hat trailing behind him like a comet’s tail, catching butterflies and drifting in the air. Sometimes, I long to only live within my imagination alongside him, where the world is brighter and the mundane simply melts away.
Image Credit by Chidi Young