Dream Weaver

On a corner, on a street corner, that's where she spotted her very best friend from high school. He appeared ragged and worn down, but she recognized him, somehow. He looked 15 years older than he was and as though he hadn't showered, or had a good meal in months. She couldn't contain herself, and though she was scared that this man she had known as her brother may have no recollection of who she was, she had to know. What was the story behind how he arrived at this particular corner on this particular day at sundown? How had the purple sky framed him just right so she could glimpse her dear friend?

She pulled over hurriedly and parked. She ran up to him and approached him without caution. "Sam, Sam, is that you?" She grabbed his face and peered into his steely gray eyes. "It's me, Kara. Do you remember me?" Sam looked at her in bewilderment, and then his eyes flickered... was it shame, was it recognition, was it dread, she couldn't tell? "Sam, please, come eat with me?"

He smiled, and gazed back into her eyes with compassion. "Kara, I'm not destitute. I don't need charity. I'm enjoying this adventure. I'm moving through this world at a slow and steady pace, taking in every sight there is to see and every smell there is to sniff. I live off in the woods, but every once in a while drop in on a random concrete jungle to watch the animals trapped in their car cages retreating from their work day with mostly grumpy faces. I am reminded that I need to live simply to be happy!"

Sam then turned and walked away, leaving Kara behind in pure wonderment. A smile crept across her face and she meandered back to her car wondering if she'd ever have the courage to even dream of living that simply.

Upon waking, she smiled and sighed contentedly.