I wandered through rocky hills, past outcrops of bedrock worn smooth by wind and made brittle by wildfires. The wind suddenly collected a pile of dead brown leaves at my feet. As I watched the swirling, I realized the wind had collected more than tinder.
I reached into the pile and pulled out something both small and large, both heavy and light. It attempted to form itself into whatever I was thinking of at the moment.
But I knew it wasn’t mine to keep, much less alter. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2017-06-22.01”