By Kyrsten Bean
Laughing into the galaxy of banal wishes she pulls a dream reel from the sky. Wraps a purple streak around her wrist and pulls it into the morning. Awakened by the restless pulses it emits she tumbles backwards into an upside-down world that is unremitting and iridescent. Calm. There is no future in this moment, she cries. There is only now. The purple streak clutches tightly, holding on for dear life. She drags it out into the garden where it tugs itself through snapdragons, lilacs and climbing wisteria. The ivy sparkles with moisture. Get lost, she calls.