Last night I had a dream that I was flying. I was high above the ground - I think I was flying over part of the interstate between two cities in a nicely wooded area. The wind ripped past my face. Looking down I saw cars driving by on the highway, seemingly in slow motion.
I began wondering how I was flying - that it usually took effort to keep flying. Birds usually have to flap their wings, planes have to use their jets or propellers, and rockets have to shoot out their fuel. I wasn't doing anything much past just gliding so I didn't know how I was staying in the air.
Of course that's when I started plummeting to the ground.
Moral of the story? If things are going well, don't question it.
Stories of the Future War Cult (On Patrol)
1 year ago