something you out grew

 The worn, slightly sticky plastic of my old dinosaur figurines, residing in a dusty bin under my bed, held an entire prehistoric world I once ruled as a child, orchestrating epic battles and migrations across the living room rug with Rexy the chipped-toothed Tyrannosaurus and Spiky the melted-tailed Stegosaurus. Though my interests have evolved to more "grown-up" pursuits, and the dinosaurs now gather dust in an attic box, a wave of nostalgia washes over me whenever I rediscover them, reminding me of the sheer joy of uninhibited imaginative play, a simplicity and lack of self-consciousness I now miss in a world that often feels too serious, longing for the days when the weight of Rexy in my hand could instantly transport me back to a time when anything was possible on a patch of carpet

today in class we created a story about a characther

we drafted and created stories as a class