In a word, she’s imaginative. She can spin worlds from nothing but a leaf-littered field, twisting a blade of grass into a skyscraper, a misshapen group of mushroom into a flourishing nation. She’ll tell you how the patches of moss that grow between the sidewalk cracks are the last traces of forest on a desolate planet, how the anthills are worn-down mountains and the stray leaves are dragons drifting down from the trees. Cupping a runaway spider in a folded leaf, she’ll give you a little half-smile and tell you how it’s an alien species, the last of its kind, sent in disguise to colonize the earth.
I'm a high school junior.