The Imaginary Friend

My imaginary friend lived at the bottom of the garden and got me into all kinds of trouble. Once he told me to burn the house down so I found some matches and tried to light them. Dad did his nut over that one.

I can’t remember his name or what he looked like but there was a presence. And he could be quite mean.

Now I’m a dad myself.

Little Jack was at the bottom of the garden; I could hear his reedy voice talking to….who was he talking to?

‘But I don’t know where to find any matches.’