When I was ten years old, I held a delusion that I kept as a dark secret. "The Smiling Beaks of Bluebirds," my new story in qarrtsiluni, tells the story.

For there are illusions and there are delusions.

An illusion, according to is a perception that represents what is perceived in a way different from reality.

A delusion is believing in something false. Not all delusions are delusions of grandeur; some false beliefs are shameful or horrifying.

Have you ever held onto an outlandish but terrifying delusion? Write about this.


  1. I loved this piece, Christi. I hope I can also oneday write about my own mother in such a peaceful, tender way.

  2. Thank you, Andria. You inspire me, too. I shall answer your comment in my next post.


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