I know I will wake up to the dark of a winter day tomorrow with the same thought as this morning.
And I know that I will stare at the black water of the river and the endless stream of ice sheets floating by.
In the light from the dashboard, I will choose a destination, plot a course, and delete it. Again and again.
At some point this dream will collapse. It will collide with time and space, and as it is with all things timeless, such as a thought, a prayer or a dream, it will burn. But right now I am not willing to let it slip into the unknown. Not just yet.
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