The young girl of seven looked up from her worksheet with wide, brown eyes. "Twelve," she answered.
"Yes, very good! Seventeen minus five is twelve," the teacher said, writing the answer on the transparency for the projector. "Now, Brandon, what do you have for number nine?"
Katie looked back down to her worksheet that was completely scribbled on with random drawings of flowers, cupcakes, butterflies, all sorts of cute things. She was no longer in the classroom when she finished drawing a few more petals on a daisy--her pictures brought her into a whole new world filled with endless gardens of different species of flowers, candy everywhere you looked, and critters leaping and sprinting all over the place. This place was like a dream, but it seemed all too real to her.
She was the queen of this land, she was the ruler.
However, with her name being called, she was flung back to reality.
"Katie! I asked if you knew the answer to number twenty-five!" one of her friends whisper-yel
Happiness You stand there, staring out at a sea of teenage girls screaming your name. Lights of blue, green, and red shine down on the faces of your band mates, and yours, brightening your smiles like the lights on a football field. There are multiple white spotlights raining down on you, some right in your dark eyes, and I swear they are blinding youyou've experienced it so many times, however, that my concern falls dead.
You are living your dream.
Every shirt in the crowd is white, colored with black and red, each reading your band's name. These girls wish so bad to marry you, like a pack of crazy dogsdogs that don't do as they're told. As you sing, your microphone carries your voice throughout the entire building, every note precisely on key.
Suddenly, the pleasant smell of roast beef enters my nose, like a welcome
Blue ExcitementIn this dream, you are standing next to me. The world around us is blue, except for a strange piece of brown that we are standing on. Our hands clasp together, our fingers intertwine. Your hands are as warm as the sun beating down. The brown gives way under our feet, but just barely; the blue, still all around, starts to wash over our feet, giving both of us the chills. We look at our reflections in the blue. You're wearing your favorite trunks, and I'm wearing my own favorite swimsuit. I almost wish that you weren't going to make me do this. However, my wish changes as I see, in the distance, a dolphin jumping out of the blue, and then soaring back in again; I wish I could go soaring with that dolphin. Then three more thrilling dolphins come leaping after that first one. I look at you, wanting, waiting for an approval. As you nod, still smiling, the scent of an ocean hits me. It hits me like a boxer hits a punching bag, and I take the scent in with delight. We both take a deep breath,