will the dream come back?
will i know where i am?
I’m counting purples when the wind slips my name into my ear—startled, I gasp and my foot skids. For a heartbeat I’m windmilling over certain doom (orange), but I catch myself at the last second, heel biting onto violet with a tiny, triumphant scrape. I grin down at the stone like it did me a favor, then look up, waving.will i know where i am?
"Remi!"
I bounce toward him, heel-to-toe across violet islands, testing muscles I didn’t know were awake this morning. Maybe this was always a lesson in balance—dexterity disguised as a game. The sea hisses, the path shimmers, and I keep my focus tight on each next purple.
When I’m close enough to see the boyish curve of his smile, I fling an arm out, eyes wide, half-playful and half-serious as the spray kicks up around us. "Careful! Lava is pouring everywhere but the purple stones." A beat. "Come on, purple!"
will there be birds?
Theea
