That night I dreamt vividly that I was a child again, outside with my cousin in the morning sun, hunting down freshly chewed bones left behind by coyotes during the night. In my dream I am laughing, and running, bones rattling against bones in my little plastic bucket. I do not care that the sun is too bright, or that my bare feet are covered in scratches from the dry summer grass. In my dream I am alive, and I am so, so blissfully unaware of it.
















