I was born on the East Coast during World War II. Back then everyone was required to cover their windows with black-out curtains at night so enemy planes wouldn't be able to see the lights and tell where cities and towns were.
When the war was over and those curtains were taken down I was amazed to see that after dark our windows reflected an apartment exactly like ours!
I made up an imaginary friend who lived there. His name was Georgie Clockie and I invented stories about him.
On the rare occasions when I rode in our car at night Georgie Clockie even rode along in an identical car next to ours.
Then we moved to California.
At first, as we drove across the continent, Georgie Clockie did ride along beside us, but it wasn't long before I forgot about him and he disappeared.
With all the changes in my life I didn't think of him again for months, and by the time I remembered him I could no longer imagine him.
But I'll never outgrow my imagination. That's probably why I'm a writer.
Did you ever have an imaginary friend when you were a kid?