|
Dreams.
Nightmares. For a long time that wasn't a difference.
The
first week after Wolf Den, when it became clear how irrational
people are, I dreamt of being trapped by glass walls, of becoming
frozen.
Then... nothing for a
long time.
Till the dreams
changed, grew... expecting.
Unfortunately,
there's always the wake-up with the realization that it's no fun
to have a date and icecream and cinema when you have to beg from
a senator first. Not that it's any likely to become
granted.
But the dreams don't
care about that.
She does
neither.
And I won't ask for
permission.
|