Who are we?

      When I walk down the street or stop in at stores or other businesses I see people that I doubt see themselves the way I see them.  Now wait, I'm not crazy.  Hear me out.  There was a fellow in my old town who I swear had to have been a dragon at one time in his existence.  He was old and a bit grisled and acted as if everyone he met was some thief trying to break into his horde to steal his treasure.  As with most dragons, there always seemed to be something mysterious about him and so several local children dared each other to one day do exactly as he feared everyone might.
      I have met women at church who surely must have been inn keepers' wives; and several young men and women who barely hid the hero personas under military uniforms and missionary suits.  I have met burly dwarves who only thought of themselves as working men, and delicate elves posing as human children.  Inside each of us are magical and wonderful  creatures that often only escape during our dreams.
      It makes me wonder if all people who become writers have somehow tapped into their dream selves.  After all, many of my stories came to me in dreams.  But if all writers used their own dream selves to write; then some of them must be very unhappy people or perhaps nightmares are what they choose to share in their stories.