Her dreams were so fantastical and impermanent that who in their right mind would dare to go along with her for the shorthaul - the complete insecurity in one perfect moment or brief brilliant scenario that might very well end or morph into something completely new at the drop of a copper leaf. But why not live it while the fantasy burns, and say in the end that we'd lived out our dream? One always wakes up in the end anyway and tomorrow will dream anew. But no one is sorry for waking up when promises of the next slumber hold so many more mysteries. So why be sad when one thing ends and another is allowed to begin? Why not hold hands and jump? Certain Native American tribes say that when you dream of falling, and you finally reach the bottom, that you make a wish for yourself and your people and it will come true. Let's leap many times, and realize many wishes.
