A dream

I dream of many things.

I remember the pale, yellow sun, washing my face. I dream that I can see the sun again, perched up in the sky.

I dream of the blue, transparent waters of the sea. The white sand slipping from under my feet with every fresh, frothy wave.

I dream of the cold wind hitting my red, frostbitten nose. I dream of the feeling of my boots trudging on the fresh, flaky snow before it turns to ice.

I dream of crowded concert halls. I dream of icy aisles in supermarkets.

I dream of coffee and its painfully bitter taste on my tongue. Milk, no sugar. Left out on the kitchen table long enough to become room temperature.

I dream of stained glass windows in churches.

I dream of diving into a pool on a hot, summer day.

I dream of bonfires and marshmallows. I dream of sitting outside, with chocolate fondue, the sea breeze whipping my hair.

I dream of doing something worthwhile, accomplishing something, saving the world.

I dream. 

Because that is all I can do.