"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." I refuse to accept that mentality. Dreams are what drive us as humans; they're how we strive past what we are today in search of a better tomorrow. What's so fallible about getting a little lost now and again? Is the mundane acceptance of a linear path really a life worth living? I think not, and so I will continue to dream; I will get lost, and take my time finding the path back home. The corners of my lips curled up, like foxes cozying in a den, as I placed my fountain pen back in its holster. A paperweight at each corner of the protesting parchment shackled it in place as it set. The smell of fresh ink filled my nostrils, lingering there, and I basked in the scent of freshly written wisdom. "It's not a meal- you don't need to savor it." I tilted my head backwards over the chair I was sitting on, and there she was: Maya, my beautiful, upside-down love, with her satin, chocolate hair contrasting flawless pale skin that radiated. She almost glowed in sunlight that crept through dancing curtains, gazing into my eyes through two glimmering pools of deep blue with bursts of yellow around the pupils, like sunflowers gently floating in the ocean. She smiled and cupped a hand on each side of my head. I tensed my lips somewhere between a kiss and smile, but got a mouthful of rose-scented hair as she bit the tip of my nose and pulled back. "You thought I was going for a kiss, didn't you?" she asked, words dancing in my ears. Her voice was like silk, smooth, rich and comforting, with a tug of temptation that could rival an apple stolen from Eden--when it wasn't overripe with sarcasm, of course. It seems today, the fruit has long expired. "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting whatever that was. I don't know where your enthusiasm comes from. . . the sun's barely risen and you're already so full of life. I hope you don't spend it all before the day starts." She sneered at me. "I feel full of life right now. I'm ready to take on the world! You should be, too, if you want to succeed today. Say, what'd you write there?" Peering over my shoulder, she scrunched up her nose and read my excerpt. "When did you learn to write like this? I would've never expected it from you. Took you forever, though. I spied on you after I finished getting ready. " I lifted an eyebrow at that last bit. "I got a little sidetracked reminiscing about when I first met you. And it's a lot easier for me to write than speak, so I'm not surprised you didn't know. When I have time to brew my thoughts and words, it all comes together quite nicely. What do you think of it?" "It's not bad," she replied with a subdued smile, tucking in her lips. "Just kidding. I absolutely love it. Are you gonna frame and hang it somewhere?" "Yeah, actually. I was thinking maybe we'd put it up over the bed? Just above the headboard, to the left of the lock. It seems like the most appropriate place for a piece about dreaming, don't you think?" "Sounds good to me! Worry about that later, though--we have a lot do, today." With that, she was off before I could even open my mouth to respond. Rather hurriedly, I donned my armor. Pieced together from tough, white leather with an outer layer of gold scales on the torso and a black horn on each shoulder, it looked like the hide of an albino dragon envied by the rest of its kin. I'd never gotten around to decorating it with any accents or symbols; it was simple elegance from head to toe. I slung an ordinary steel longsword across my back and stormed out the door, hoping Maya hadn't left me behind. Either it pleased her to be first, or my frustration made her giggle. It was likely a mix.