Too early for breakfast, too late for chapter two in the dream trilogy.
We were dreaming of a hover surfboard we had invented and were hover-surfing up the side of the Rocky Mountains having just returned from Mont Blanc.
We were also treasuring the Olympic gold medal after managing the world record for continual hovering.
Now, it’s time to write music, inscribe a novel into a new type of impenetrable plastic, and to throw bright red pots.
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