Beanstalk

Looking for your dreams again? I found them attached to the trunks of grand oak trees. Also tangled with branches and riverbeds, sometimes lions. You would need to know a superhero, alphabet, or friend to freely move yourself along at top speeds from the general to the specific, or the specific to the general depending on the contemporary direction of your dreams.

If you wish to speak of dreams again, you must cross the mighty river of stories outside your window on a one-way bridge of found vines repurposed as our private walkways, narrowly avoiding giants.

New shapes present themselves as used spaces along the vines. Singing from a gap in the world. Trying to tell time to the ants below. These vines were once pristine as ants.

Reaching for the things you want to know. Sometimes just reaching.

When you wake up with a new time zone for the world and spend the hours tossing clocks against the sky, yesterday just catches them and stands next to you, pretending to learn to juggle for the first time.

Flying overnight halfway up the world tree. You dream again. Some people had wound themselves toward the top of the canopy. At least this was the way it was supposed to be, or you said you were the way that you were supposed to be.

So, maybe you can find your dreams again.

Elan Radousky lives in California. When he isn’t reading, writing, eating, sleeping, or playing the xylophone, he can sometimes be found outside attempting to finally master five club juggling. He doesn’t actually play the xylophone, but he has on occasion dabbled at playing the xaphoon. His favorite color is blue, and he probably doesn’t know any secrets about you.

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