Perchance to dream. . .

Newspaper_Rock_Petroglyphs

Once upon a time there was a writer and a dream.

The dream was this.

The writer slept. The dream began to dip and swirl before her eyes.

A specter dancing.

Wakening, she etched the dream a thousand different ways, then carved it into stone and ground it into sand, and poured it in her hand.

She tossed it up–

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