Flying,

Fleeting,

Falling,

Foraging,

Finding,

Forgetting,

Flying,

again.

5 minute mind doodle:

While cycling down the street today, I noticed a particlarly burled tree. I thought that trees always make good characters in stories. I could make this one do things, come alive, scare the living shit out of someone or steal a soul. Inspiration is everywhere. I wish I had a way to "write" note without having to write them, especially in those moments while I'm driving or on a bike or in the shower. I never remember those thoughts that I think are so novel in the moment. I rinse the soap out of my hair and the inspiration goes with it. Maybe mindmapping could be a skill I should get into? Put these ideas into neat little rooms, in neat little boxes and open them later when I'm in front of the keyboard. That tree though, I have an idea. I will use it for inspiration. Later. First I have to fold some laundry.

You drive me up the wall,

you drive me down again.

I think I'm feeling sick,

you'll pick me back up and then...

I can be quite a handful,

you are always quite intense.

The reason we still work together,

I refuse to build a fence.

Seven years and counting,

we smile and eat and drink.

We count our little ducklings,

for another life we couldn't think.

It's magic to see; floating white crystals softly touching the decaying landscape, sparkling. It disguises the brown, rotting, frozen terrain of the dormant, unfertile months. The blanket grows, flows and drifts like white frosting on a dull brown cake. Swirls of white dust fly in the air like cartoon smoke.

I want to say, shut me up. Lord knows, I talk too much. Past logic, past intellect and into the gray zone, where a simple concept becomes too complex and too abstract to be taken seriously anymore. The conversation is interesting, in the beginning. We nod in agreement of things almost not articulated, the conversation clicks, I take a left turn. It enters a place where the idea is lost and wandering. Like this. Rambling again. Be quiet, now! Just smile. How 'bout that rain last night?

Cori was slowly waking, still holding on to those last restful moments, halfway between dreaming and consciousness. She was thinking about what a good dream it must've been, but it was fading fast and then it was all but gone with just the emotions remaining. Then, all to suddenly, a wave of panic shot through her and her heart went from a slow, rhythmic, relaxed beat to beating so hard that it reminded her for a moment of some kind of ceremonial drumming before a sacrifice she'd seen in a movie somewhere, where everyone was dressed in loincloths bones in their noses or something like that. She was suddenly very awake.

Her bedroom was next to the bathroom(of course, in this small apartment, everything was next to anything.) The apartment was old, the floors were uneven and squeaked but overall the charm of the place was intact. There was crown moulding, though, cracks in the plaster, repaired and cracking again, were showing their age and burnished brass doorknobs impressed with a rose motif remained, shiny on the upper right where everyone's hands touched, almost golden.

She lied in bed, stiff, frozen in terror. Cori, lived alone. Alone. Only, she heard the bathtub draining; that squeaking, sucking noise as if the pipes were pulling the water faster than the water itself could fall down the drain.

The only person with a key besides her ex, Tom, was the landlord. The landlord was such a pleasant guy, very friendly with everyone, he arranged a cleaning lady come once per week for an extra 100 Euros per month. He kept everyone safe and seemed to know when something was broken even before the tenants did. A great guy. And, Tom. He doesn't want to be in the same time zone as Cori right now. He couldn't be. Cori took a career changing job on the other side of the world. It happened so suddenly, she had to leave within the week and it wouldn't be discussed. She had to do it. Of course, Tom has his own career as a surgeon and a life there. He never even entertained the idea of leaving. Attempting to move his job also meant new licences and possibly more education in another country, he new nothing about. It never crossed his mind. His only flaw, she always thought. She was always ready for something new and he wasn't. So, in shock, and his heart broken, he walked out of the apartment and told Cori not to be there when he got back. She wasn't. The movers came that same day and the packing went more quickly than anticipated, since Tom's things wouldn't be coming and most of the things were Tom's things.

She left a note for him.

Tom,

if you change your mind, here is the key.

I love you and you know it. Please, take some time to consider it.

It won't be the same without you. And if it's terrible we can always come back!

-Cor

She scribbled down the new address and left it with his plane ticket. He would never get on the plane. Cori wondered if she should have given this whole thing up and stayed. She wouldn't hear from Tom again. She lived alone in her new place for the last four months without a word. A fresh new start, she thought, though she quietly longed for him and his companionship. Cori knew she had made the right decision for her career.. Selfish self.. She tried to move on, just a little, or so she told herself, and started to enjoy being on her own.

The drain sucked and squeaked and the pipes rattled and bubbled ever so slightly with the weight of the water. Her heart sunk.

How is this possible? I didn't hear the water running. I didn't hear a ratchety doorknob turn or any floorboard creak. If I didn't hear anything, what else happened while I was asleep. Fuck me for being such a deep sleeper! Whoever is in there, must know I'm here. What the hell do I do? What do I do!? And Jesus fucking Christ, my phone is in the living room, next to the sofa, plugged in on the damned end table. Stupid! Stupid! But those chips I ate last night! I think - NO, I'M SURE, I threw the bag there when I was finished! Great! So, this guy(this person) maybe didn't see it! Congratulations on being a slob, Corinna! Way-to-go!!! -Anyway. I can't get to it. Fucking-stupid-shit! Shit!

She stayed frozen, listening, trying to tell herself that she was still dreaming, that she was going crazy, too many horror flicks getting into her head, anything but the truth that there was in fact a bathtub draining in the next room. The tub finally gave one final, terrible, high-pitched sucking, squeal. The pipes gave one last rattle and it was finished. She listened more. Nothing. She felt the humidity of the bathroom, now that she thought of it, or was she sweating? It was winter, so the house was normally dry, especially as night, when the heaters kicked on high to fight the frost from the windows. Cori threw a wet towel over the radiator before she went to bed so she wouldn't wake up with a bloody nose. Humid, but likely sweating in fear; the hair that touched her neck was damp.

Huh... If I don't hear anything in the next minutes, I'm going to look. I'm going to pull myself out of this bed and move and somehow get to the bathroom. If there is someone here, they’ll have to make some sound.

Each moment was an eternity. There was no way to tell how much time was really going by. There was no clock in this room. Cori would normally keep her phone on her nightstand, but this was Sunday morning. She was lazy last night, she supposed, because she didn't need the alarm this morning. No phone then.

Breathe, Corinna. Okay, now move your body. Quietly.

She slid herself to the right because on the left there was a squeak in the bed, so now she avoided it like a landmine. Cori realised that she was naked as the sheets touched her body and a curl of twisted sheets caught on her nipple.

What the..? I sleep like an old lady for Christ's sake! Where in the holy fuck are my pajamas!? What happend TO ME? Oh my god, someone had to touch me to take my clothes off!

She reached down, it was obvious what to check next. She found herself bare and shaved - and wet. There was fluid that didn't feel like her own, between her legs and stuck to her right thigh and a few spots on the sheets she now felt. And sore, but not hurt.

My god. I was raped? I was raped! And the son of a bitch took the time to groom my fucking pussy!? Tom, always liked me smooth, but don't most men, I guess? It couldn't(wouldn't) be Tom. Tom wouldn’t come here, I’m sure. So, it's a stranger. Why didn't I wake up!? Jesus, I was drugged wasn't I? I need my phone. I need to get to my phone. First, wait a second how was I drugged? I was by myself last night having wine and chips and then went to bed at midnight like a good girl and that was that!

Cori traced her body, first her arms and her hips, thinking maybe she was poked with a syringe and could find the sore spot where she was injected. She touched her belly and skipped her breasts, just grazing them with her arms, on the way up. Finally, she found a spot on her neck. It twanged with doctors' office pain and she knew. But her terror faded and she became angry instead.

Fuck. Literally, I've been fucked and I'm fucked. Mm.. That's not funny, Corinna.

She quietly slid the rest of the way out of bed and softly put her feet on the ground. She looked down at her violated body for a quick inspection. All she saw was her "freshly-shaved-by-a-stranger-pussy," cold nipples and a naval piercing scar, a regret from the -90's. She felt nauseous and angry, the terror waned slightly. She grabbed an oversized T-shirt, that she used for lounging around the house(which was often), from the chair near the bed. She thought of finding socks because her feet were cold, but shook the thought.

Walking barefoot is quieter anyway. A weapon. I need a weapon. And to vomit, I need to get to the toilet - but, no! Jesus.

Cori forgot about her phone. She was so nauseous and so curious about the asshole that raped her and just wanted to know. She walked on the pads of her feet, trying to remember where the creaks in the floor were and getting it right; stepping as lightly as a cat. Next to the door of her bedroom was a tennis racket. Better than nothing! But really fucking stupid, Cori! She didn't have many possessions and certainly didn't have much in the way of weaponry. As she walked out of her bedroom she held the racket in front of her with both hands, the way she would've held a baseball bat, if she had - had one. She quickly peaked, poking her head out of the door frame and peeking quickly to her right towards the living room and then back into her bedroom. Nothing it seemed. Breathe. Then out to her left. The door of the bathroom was slightly opened and the morning light hit the brass doorknob and that golden rubbed out spot on the top shone. She hesitated.

Cori could hear the small plink of a very tiny water droplet fall in the tub. The terror came back, she held her breathe tightly, her heart began racing, thudding in her chest and it was almost all she could hear; it pulsed in her ears. She worried she wouldn't hear the rapist asshole if he did made any noise. She could hardly move, but she had to, she couldn't just stand there. Cori took a step and the edge of the tennis racket hit the frame of the bathroom door and made a sharp, klunk. Fuck! Too late to do anything about that now! She swung the door open and it bounced on the towel hung behind it against the wall, so she braced it open with the side of her foot. The clawfoot tub, original to the building, scratched and aged stood, half-draped by hot-pink and white striped shower curtain, something Corinna purchased and thought was a hilarious single-girl purchase. Christ, the curtain is covering ANYTHING I could possibly see. Of course it is! Plink. She made a slight jolt at the sound and her heart thudded harder in her chest and ears. No sounds of life though. The humidity of the room hugged her skin and she could see from the corners of her eyes her hair was curled on the ends from the sweat and humidity. She took a quick inventory of the room. The floor was wet near the tub, but everything looked normal. She cringed when something wet fell to her inner thigh and she shuddered and made a sick face at its alien, poisonous feeling. She rubbed her thighs together quickly to cut it short. She stepped forward again and more fell but this time she ignored it. She touched the tennis racket to the shower curtain. It made a zipping and crunching sound as the curtain slightly crushed and moved behind the racket. Not a sound from the tub. With everything she had inside of her, he heart thudding stronger, as one more plink of water fell, she held her breath, closed her eyes, then opened them wide realising that was a stupid thing to do and pulled the curtain quickly to the side, even surprising herself. The curtain fell in slow motion against the window and edge of the tub.

Curled up in the fetal position, face down, ass up and knees tucked under, white skinned, naked and seemingly blue veins showing behind his almost transparent skin was the landlord.

Corinna opened her mouth to scream and nothing came out, not even a breath. Her eyes were fixed, in shock, at the body of this -man, this fucking fraud; monster. His arms were laying next to each side of his body, his hands next to his face, palms up. She could see he had torn apart her razor, fucking up the forefinger and thumb of his left hand in the process and leaving the pieces of the razor scattered in the bottom of the tub. He had slit his wrists, in all different directions, mutilating himself, up to his inner elbows, as if he wasn't really sure of what he was doing or if it was going to work. It worked. Faint streaks of blood tainted water trailed and stained the bottom of the tub in pink, almost matching the single-girl shower curtain. Fat was showing behind some of the wounds. He must have kicked the plug away as he passed out. No longer feeling in danger, but now REALLY needing to vomit, she stepped to the toilet, dropped the racket and let it bounce on the floor with a metallic poing and heaved all of the half-digested, 'sea salt and black pepper potato chips' and red wine of last night until there was nothing left but acid and the pepper burn in her nostrils and the acid burn in her throat. Her diaphragm ached and she howled and cried and tried to breath, but shook instead. The cries turned to screams as she looked towards the tub. Then she screamed louder, kicking at the floor as if to get away from it. Plink. Then she stood up and started yelling and screaming at this pathetic, disgusting body in the tub, with all of her voice.

"Whyyyyy!?? FUCK YOU! YOU DISGUSTING-HORRIBLE-MONSTER! How dare you TOUCH ME!? How dare you LIVE!? HOW DARE YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF, YOU COWARD!? I wish you were alive so I could kill you! Fuck you!!! FUCK YOU - YOU FUCKER!" She screamed so hard, her voice cracked; her throat ached more than from the acid in the back of her throat.

Cori slipped back down to the floor and sobbed. She kicked the tennis racket towards the bathtub, it scuttled across the floor and tapped a claw foot of the tub. She startled. Plink.

Fucking plinking water! Time to get up and pull my shit together. (I just want Tom here.) No, I don’t.

She was angry again. Angry for getting so scared. Angry at this landlord fucking coward who touched her; hurt her. Angry for wanting Tom. Adrenaline came. Her muscles stiffened as she made fists and crinkled her forehead with a cartoon fierceness. She got to her feet, started to walk out, glancing down at the cowardly, white slug of a body in the bath. She looked at the man's arms and the pink streaks in the tub, noticed some stubble clinging to the edges of his knees and arms where they met the tub(which must have been from her.. which also meant she was in the tub at some point! Explains the wet hair!) She shuddered at the thought of not knowing, fists clenched tighter and and ran out as if something was behind her. But, a dead man isn't something anymore.

Corinna ran to the living room, jumped to the far end of the sofa and landed on the cushion like a child playing ‘hot lava.’ She lunged for the end-table and tossed up the potato chip bag behind her and out of the way. It flew awkwardly to the ground, sprinkling crumbs as it landed. She quickly unplugged her phone, curled up, clumsily unlocked it, though her hands shook. Cori pulled her t-shirt down over her knees like a small girl would with her nightgown. She had gotten the phone, now help would come.

"There are seven messages from Tom!? Uhh.. Why now? Not now, Tom! Polizia" she said with her best Italian accent.

The police answered and she waited only ten agonizing minutes for them to arrive. A miracle, she could have waited hours in this town. The doorbell buzzed and she stood with a start and grabbed the tennis racket again. Cori rolled her eyes at herself and threw it down on the sofa where in made a metallic, muted twang. "Jesus, Cori, knock it off! It's over now!"

“I poliziotti sono qui! Apri la porta!” They said, while knocking with meaning. She opened the door in slow motion. In the moment she clutched the knob she realised that once another person saw her, heard this story, it was real. That things untold don’t feel real until they are said and seen. She saw the head officer and said nothing, her face told nothing, it went blank and vacant and at once she took in a breath too deep for her small body and broke down crying and collapsed in the doorway like a ragdoll. A female officer sat down beside her and began to try to comfort Corinna but she was in a daze, the world through her wall of tears and thoughts was like a blurred nightmare. Everything the officer said to her was muted.

Cori’s odd silence was suddenly broken when she heard a voice say, “What is all this?! What is going on? Where is Cor?”

I know that voice. Tom. My god he couldn’t be real.

“Corinna! Are you okay?! What happened to you!?” Tom could see that she was unable to cope or speak- she was shaking- and instead embraced her limp and exhausted body. “Nevermind, Cor, it’s okay. I’m here. You don’t have to talk.” He had tossed his hand luggage in the hallway, when he’d seen the police and moments later saw Cori, and it stood there in the middle of the ox-blood, carpeted hallway, at an angle, like a ghost, under the bronze sconce and half-wallpapered walls. It may as well have been a ghost. It didn’t seem to exist in these moments.

The neighbors gawked at the display, a little ridiculous considering NO ONE had bothered to even try call the police or knock at the door as a concerned citizen, not even one of the nosy old ladies who liked to chat with each other in the hallways in the afternoon while sitting on folding chairs, complaining about their adult children or their lazy husbands or the weather. One of the officers finally closed the door and Tom walked Cori, by the shoulders, like a glass-eyed, drunken doll, to the sofa. She sat, stiffly and turned to Tom.

“Why are you here?” She immediately thought she sounded jerky for saying it like that, but it was genuinely what she wanted to know. “I mean, you’re here. Are you….visiting…?..” and her words trailed off. She didn’t know the right things to say. I guess I shouldn’t try to think, this will work itself out. I can’t think now anyway.

In the background they could hear the chatter of the officers, the place came alive in an oddly good way. It seemed less anxious to know there was someone here taking care..

“Abbiamo una siringa!”

“c'è qualche identificazione nella camera da letto ... ci sono i suoi vestiti lì?”

“Maria, dobbiamo portare la giovane donna all'ospedale .. ha bisogno di essere guardata e un kit di stupro. Hai visto il letto?”

“Sì. Mi prenderò cura. Lascia che lei abbia un momento con il suo ragazzo.”

Cori’s Italian was okay-ish, she understood that they had found the needle and that she was headed to the hospital soon. She was dreading anyone touching her again(the rape kit) but at least there was a woman officer, a nice one, she didn’t much want to so much as talk to a man, except for Tom.

Tom pulled her head to his chest and she let herself relax.

“I’m here... to give it a go.” Tom said. “Give us a go. I.. I, took a leave of absence from work. Everyone thinks I’m insane, but I couldn’t leave things like that.” He hesitated. “Maybe too much time has passed already. I didn’t even call, I wouldn’t even know if.. You would want me here or if you had… someone..” and he stopped. He was talking too much. Shut up, Thomas.

Cori stared off and said to Tom with an emotionless face, “Tom, I don’t know how it’s possible, but you made me forget, for just a moment. I’m happy if you stay.. Even for a while. I’ll understand if you don't want to really stay.” She meant it.

“Okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Ho trovato "la nota".

Cori, sat up quickly and looked behind the couch at the female officer. She grit her teeth and said sternly, “What note?”

“Tda suicida nota, madam.”

Corinna’s eyes widened. She wondered if she should even know what it said.

Tom looked at Corinna, his eyes looked as if he had heard the worst. His green eyes glazed. “Suicide. What suicide? Cori. Corinna!?”

“Signore. Calmati. Ehh.. Corrrrina dos not-a writ-e tdeesa nota.” The female officer hesitated. “Tda mann-a tdat-a hoort yur-e laidy did.”

Tom grabbed Corinna by the shoulders. “You’re hurt, Cor?”

“I.. I don’t remember it. But, yes, I was. I am.” Cori sounded calm. She didn’t look right at Tom, she looked off behind him at tear in the old wallpaper. It was elegant, but showing its’ age.

“Jesus, Cor, if I had known.. You don’t have to say more now.” Tom turned his attention towards the female officer who watched over their exchange. “This man. He..” Tom made a throat slitting motion with his finger and immediately realised it was totally inappropriate. Without skipping a beat the officer nodded her head, yes. Tom looked toward the bedroom and bathroom where he could see the movements of the the other two officers.

“Tell me what it says. Could you please tell me what the note says? Per favore.” Cori glanced towards the bedroom where the lead officer stood with it in his gloved hand. It was a torn piece of yellow lined paper from a legal pad.

“Si, signora. You hav-a tda riight-e te know-e. But-e, eet is-e odda.” The lead officer was big and handsome and spoke in a low, comforting voice, like someone from a movie, Cori and Tom both thought. Cori nodded her head to give the okay and closed her eyes tightly.

He started.

“Bella, Corinna.

Per quello che ho fatto, non posso più vivere con me stesso. in verità, questo è l'unico modo in cui posso morire. Non ho mai toccato un'altra donna e mi dispiace è così che è successo. Ti ho scelto, ma sapevo che non avresti mai dormito con un vecchio. Ero troppo curioso e ho attraversato molte linee mi dispiace molto. Mi dispiace molto. perdonami. Spero che tu non ricordi nulla. Spero che il regalo compensi questa cosa terribile che ho fatto.

-Massimo”

(Beautiful, Corinna.

For what i have done, i can no longer live with myself. in truth, this is the only way i can die. I have never touched another woman and i am sorry this is how it happened. I chose you, but knew you would never sleep with an old man. I was too curious and I crossed to many lines. I am so sorry. forgive me. I hope you do not remember anything. I hope the gift will make up for this terrible thing I have done.

-Massimo)

“Cori, what-?” Tom had no clue what the man had said or what to think.

Corinna sat dumbfounded. “He was insane. He thought he gave me a gift!? He said that he could only die if he killed himself. What does that even mean? He apologized… I.. I don’t know.”

-

Tom eventually got the rest of the story. The landlord in the tub, the ways he violated Cori and somehow gently put her back to bed, the syringe. Cori had went to the hospital, the rape kit was done efficiently and she was thankful for it. The officers took her testimony and later took over her apartment for further evidence and to “clean up.” Tom tracked down a doctor willing to give Cori Plan B, damned Catholic country and their morality, sure.. Morality. He had the taxi, with Cori inside, wait outside of her apartment building. The officers allowed him inside to collect some of Cori’s things and he avoided the bathroom like the plague. He got her luggage from underneath the bed and hastily stuffed it with random things, hoping they were right. He wasn’t thinking well enough to be thoughtful and was already regretful about it.

That night, they went to a hotel where Tom cleaned the bathtub himself. You never know what happens in these things. He didn’t dare say out loud, but he thought in general that hotel baths were disgusting.

He drew Cori a bath with bubbles and low lights. Thankfully this tub resembled nothing of the one in her apartment. It was modern and square and sat low to the ground the faucet like a fountain springing straight from the wall.

A warm bath was what she needed, ironically. She rested her head back on a rolled up washcloth and closed her eyes. She moved her hand over her belly and grazed her navel with her fingertips and felt the water moving against her skin. She cleaned herself up and felt short stubble where she had been shaved the night before. Thank god I don’t remember. What a consolation prize. But, I really think I can get through this. She saw the curled up body of Massimo in her mind.. Can I just NOT think of this? She listened only to the sound of her breathing.. meditated. Cori lied there, motionless and as exhausted as she was - was beginning to drift into a state between consciousness and sleep.

She half-dreamt she could see Tom open her luggage, put them away on the hangers and in the drawers, neatly and put the luggage in the upper shelf of the closet. Then he opened his, did the same and pulled out a book and his reading glasses. What a boring dream, she thought, on a level of consciousness even duller. She looked on, still at this stale dream. At least it wasn’t unpleasant. He put on his pajamas, dark blue, elegantly patterned, flannel with a satin seamed lapel, new from the package. His favorite color was deep sea blue, it was a favorite you would see again and again in his wardrobe. He got into bed and began to read the ending of the book he had read the most of on the plane, between trying to sleep and watching the small screen on the back of the seat.

Tom heard Cori suddenly joke loudly from the bathroom, “Tom. Could you possibly buy any piece of clothing that isn’t blue?”

“Impossible!” Tom said, jesting back. And then, he hesitated. “Cor.”

“Tom.”

...

“...Ha..have you read this one?”

“Yes!” She was very enthusiastic. “You know he’s my favorite author! Is that why you bought it?” And at once, Corinna sat up in the tub.. The water sloshed forward and back like a small ocean wave and realised that she had not actually seen Tom’s book. She had half-dreamt it. She had not actually seen Tom’s pajamas.. Or that they were new! “Tom.”

Tom, was now standing in the doorway of the bathroom looking at Corinna, holding his book. “Corinna. Is this..?” He hesitated and knew the next words out of his mouth would sound alien but it was the truth. She turned to look at him, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders and her eyes illuminated by the reflection of the hall light from the tile floor. “Massimo’s... gift?”

Corinna stared at Tom, her face blank, her mind racing, thinking of “la nota.” How could I..? If this is the gift; if that wasn’t just a great couple of guesses then, what if the other thing that Massimo also said was true? He couldn’t die unless he killed himself.. What does that even mean? This doesn’t make sense!

“Thomas,” She said. She never called him that. Tom, stood with the book in his hand, leaning against the doorframe, staring at Cori with his mouth open as if he were about to speak.

“I don’t know anything about anything right now. Let’s sleep on it.” What she meant was, let’s forget about it, like it never happened.

“Okay, Cor. It’s okay.” He said it like there was nothing amiss. He knew she needed to rest and had no clue what was going through her mind or what she had gone through, truly.

They lied in bed, looking at each other for a time, without speaking, smiling gently at each other, their eyes beginning to close. Tom, leaned to turn out the light. “Goodnight, Cor.”

“’Night, Tom.” Cori leaned to give Tom a kiss and missed and kissed him on the side of the nose instead, corrected and got it right the second time, they both felt each other smile at their awkwardness.

Tom fell fast asleep and began snoring within just minutes. Cori quiety laughed.. Same Tom. Ha!

Soon, Corinna, exhausted in so many ways finally succumbed and fell to that place between consciousness and dreams.

In a world without Mondays you would fall asleep on Sunday and wake up the next day. That day would be spent in a semi-lucid, dream state; floating peacefully through time, not being bothered or overstimulated by anything or anyone. Your favorite cup of morning coffee would be perfectly prepared, the weather, not too hot, not too cold. People smile at you on the street in the most pleasant way, as if they'd just gotten lovely news on their way to.. wherever it is their dreamy day takes them. The newspaper only has great news, well written and relavent. You'd never be late for anything; never be tired or stressed. When that day was through, the house perfectly clean and calm and the last light goes out, you rest your head on your clean and soft pillow and let the semi-lucidity of your day fade away as if it were really a dream or a long away memory. You'd fall asleep fast and sleep well; dream well. The very next morning you would wake up, full of energy and wisdom and find it was Tuesday.