A couple of days ago, I was at the zoo when I started feeling queasy. If I tilted my head just right, I could hear dreams being trampled.
"Craig..." I muttered to nobody in particular. Nearby, a couple of flowers shriveled and the monkeys became riled.
Then I realized I'd already written about Craig at the zoo, and went off to do other things.
I do occasionally trample dreams, but only if they get in my way. Rarely will I go out of my way to trample a dream. Unless it belongs to a child.
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