Foolhardy
The man in my dreams once described me as a fool with a handful of wits looking for a place that only a fool believed to exist. A fool, he said, was a man who spends too much of his time in dreams.
His wisdom was noted and since he sounded so caring I too decided to share mine. I told him, wise men would sometimes disappoint while fools might occasionally surprise.
He raised an eyebrow.
I continued and announced that behind this clever fool lies a dumb genius.
The man rolled his eyes in disbelief. He then offered to introduce a good friend of his, who he claimed is a fool-slayer.
I agreed with much reluctance.
The good friend the man mentioned was Reality, a strikingly beautiful tall woman with a smile so sharp it was almost intimidating. The kind of woman a man should avoid if he was not looking for a heart break. The kind of woman a fool would never be able to resist.
She evaluated me from head to toe, and revealed an expression that seemed to imply that she was not impressed. I, on the other hand, was very well impressed. Fool-slayer or not, I thought, Reality was definitely worth the risk.
I approached her.
She looked at me with much doubt, and I at her with much affection. Blinded by my own passion like a moth to a flame, I could no longer resist the urge to engage. I greeted her and introduced myself.
She nodded slightly, as if too much would imply that she was interested.
I sat there for a moment until her head turned around and our eyes met. Her attention now mine. I took my chance before she looked away and asked, I lost my teddy bear, could I sleep with you tonight?
Now I no longer see the man in my dreams, for in sleep or in wake I spend most of my time in Reality.
