I remember the first night it happened. I’m not good at remembering things so this was obviously special. It’s not often something that special comes my way. Perhaps it’s not often something special comes anyone’s way because if they did that often then nothing would be special. Needless to say what often comes my way is pretty run of the mill. Bills. Spam. Work. Trouble too sometimes though usually through my own culpability.
I have not yet won the lottery. That would be special. I would be free. But why would I want to be free? I’m not one for believing there’s a reason for everything and I have met enough people who say “you know, everything happens for a reason, right?” to not be intimidated by this quasi-religious googledygook because these are the same people who can’t wait to tell you how much of a Sagittarius they are and how their boyfriend is the perfect Pisces and then you have to listen to what God did for them just that morning “I ran to the bus stop and the bus turned up just as I got there. Sigh, isn’t God wonderful? I knew I woke up late for a reason!”. So if a nail pokes you in the eye well what kind of reason is that for? I’d rather that God or Gaia or the superfreakifoolhappy universe does not cast out my eye for any reason whatsoever however much good it might do me. Still I would love to win the lottery if only for the reasons that I’m wise enough not to waste it and young enough to enjoy it.
The first night it happened was only one of two or three nights it has ever happened. I flew. I floated. I swam. I saw signs written in the sky. I was dreaming. In color. It was magical and when I awoke I cursed my body clock. I wanted my entire life to be like this: spellbinding. I consulted the books on dreams but I don’t read or believe them anymore. They can’t tell me what I really want to know, how I can go back there, where ever “there” is, every night. But then it wouldn’t be special any more, would it?