What how why?!? Of course my childhood dream is to eat an ostrich. 🙄 Oh well, here it goes.

Eats

Gags

Wait that's actually good...

Eats more

lol save the streak

Let go and move onto a real job lest you get stagnant don’t look at me up hail right! Don’t look! Keep at the fork! Turn down and don’t go into that dark tunnel. Don’t give up and don’t give in heed on don’t even try it unless you deny it, I’ll beat you and hit you and you won’t be able to catch your breath heal or get wonked at the head keep Right?

I grew up with one dream. To be like my mama! She was so strong and good at providing for me and my little sister. Having a strong career and showing us how to be strong even when sad or scary things would happen. She taught us to look to God when things got hard.

Well I turned 18 last month and everyone has to complete their childhood dream before they can move on to a real career. But I’m not sure this is a dream I want to let go of.

After I accept my career I have to forget my dream and move on. I no longer get to know what my wish was when I was younger. My memories of that dream will leave me and so will the memories of my mother.

She passed away when I was in 8th grade. I’m not ready to lose that. But that also means I can’t be like my mother because this broken city has a way of keeping watch of everyone. They know most of what goes on inside your head. Mainly your dreams and things that make you happy. It seems like a great place to live. It’s free and they can keep the streets safe and try their hardest to keep people happy but they all have to follow the rule of the dream.

No matter what the dream was. They didn’t think that sort of thing through. There are some people who’s childhood dreams were to be a fairy or be able to fly, and so they live in the streets without a stable job or spouse. Things around here really should change but I’m not sure I alone could solve the problems of the city. It’s too large. They say 2,000 years ago this city used to be a country. The U.S. I suppose.

But change is the one thing I can count on and now it’s my.. adulthood dream. As I leave my house early in the morning for my run I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“Amy!” The person whispers as I feel my breath be get stuck in my lungs. “We need to talk.”…..

I wanted to be a movie director 
My stories screened by projector 
What’s real anyway, not an opinion 
Won’t we be given complete dominion? 
Stop living timid, in constant fear 
Suddenly I can see things quite clear 
I shoot my shot and shoot my movie 
Is this what it feels like to fulfill a duty? 
One that was heavenly orchestrated 
So many blessings completely wasted 
If only I could sleep a little bit longer 
Embrace this new courage to conquer

As the credits roll, I reflect once more 
Forsaking a calling, no matter how fleeting 
Is to live a life that is spiritually poor

He always wanted to be an astronaut even though his grade went there Daydreaming through life about his ideal life and job and family Reality was he was destined to be admin assistant or warehouse house clerk That wacdinevtiig he dreaded hated he felt he was a loser and he could but bear it Either a dream world or reality and he chose the dreamworld

I don’t want to stop playing around. I don’t want a real job. I want to keep playig with my toys with my imagination. I want to ride a tiger in the Amazon forest. I want to become best friends with a tiger I don’t want to do a 9 to 5 job. I want to feed a tiger. I want to sky gaze and star gaze. I want to find the end of a rainbow. I want to Keep playing this magical game of life. No 9 to 5 job.

Silence. Again.

Crickets.

Again.

“How can this be happening?” He thought to himself.

Seven years of nonstop writing and performing had amounted to nothing.

Unlike his other friends growing up, he knew exactly what he wanted to do in life since day one. When they did a talent show in his elementary school, he did a SpongeBob impression that “killed.” From that point on, he knew this was it. This would be his path for the rest of his life.

Fast forward twenty-five years and somehow he had digressed every year. He wasn’t just not improving - he was literally getting worse everyday. The more he put in, the less he got out.

I’m 17- 4 months away from the day when I’ll need to choose a “suitable job”. My childhood dream was to be a princess, looking back, I wish I would have chosen something else. Being a princess isn’t exactly realistic, I’ve been trying to fulfill this fantasy since I was thirteen. I have four months to do it. Four months. Everyone in this town completed theirs. I don’t want to be a failure.

We moved to London so I would have a shot at it. I’ve had as much luck as I did in America. Dating guys here and there asking, “are you by chance royalty?” On the first date, probably sounding like a total creeper. Mom says I should be patient, but that method is yet to work, and I don’t have a lot of time left. I met a few guys who lied to me, “uh yeah totally I’m royal” I pace the halls, thinking, I need a strategy. “Alanaaa!!” My mom’s voice echoes through the house “Yeaaa?!” “ come here!!” I groan and then make my way to the living room. “What?” Mom’s smile is contagious. “I found a guy-“ “Mommm!” “No listen, I think he may be worth trying out!” “Whatever” “He’ll met you tommorow for lunch!!” I practically stomp away. It’s bad enough I can’t find Prince Charming but now mom’s playing match maker? Things could NOT get worse.

I’m in my room choosing the prettiest dress to wear for lunch, it shouldn’t be too dressy, but still look nice. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. My heart runs back and forth, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. He’s early! I rush to fix my hair and then tumble down the stairs. He isn’t bad looking, plus one point for mom. “Good afternoon” his voice is warm and it matches his appearance perfectly. He’s tall with messy, brown hair slicked back. His suit is much dressier than my dress. “Shall we go?” “Yes” He smiles at my mom and we head out.

“He had a car!” I’m on the phone with Lilly, my best friend. It’s been four months since our first date, we’ve been on two more since. “Yeah, but you only have a day until your birthday!” I hate hearing that phrase. “I know I know” I roll my eyes. “ but I know I’ll-“ all of the sudden, as if he was listening, his phone buzzed across my phone. “Bye Lilly” “Wait-!” “Hello?” He says, with his deep voice. “Hi.” “Meet me at the park in 20 minutes” “Wh-“ He hangs up.” I race downstairs to tell mom.

When I was three, I loved princesses, and when I was four, I chose to be a princess. Like I said before, I really wish i hadn’t. I eventually get to the park. I decided to walk, sience for the first time in forever, London is sunny and beautiful. Henry is sitting on a bench, I trot over and sit beside him. “Hey!” I smile at him, and he smiles back. “So what did you need me for?” He looks as though he’s thinking. “What was your childhood dream?” I awkwardly laugh before responding, “I wanted to be a princess” He laughs then looks at me more seriously. “I wanted to be a prince” “Really? That’s funny!” He looks at me seriously I feel my face grow red. “I think I love you.” “Henry-“ “Yes or no?” “Henry, I love you too.” He smiles warmly. “Good, now one more question” “Okay…?” “Would you be my princess?” “Henry! I mean I-“ Suddenly he inturrupts me and pulls our lips together and for a minute everything just disappears, all my worries gone. We pull away and look at each other, then we start laughing like old friends.

Scott sat in the waiting room of the office, examining the clock. It had read 8 when he arrived. Now it read 12. He glanced at the receptionist. She still sat staring straight ahead. She hadn’t moved since he had checked in hours before. Once or twice an hour the door opened about halfway to reveal another bald man in suit and glasses. They all had looked almost identical. He had only been able to tell them apart by their voices when they had called out a name. Each time some forgettable schmo got up and followed them through the doorway. He traced the stain on the gray cloth seat of his chair. All the chairs had stains. He’d checked. So he had picked the one with the best looking stain. He thought his had looked like The Fonz. Scott thumbed the sheet of paper he had in his lap. Slightly yellowed, college ruled with blue and red lines. There was a small tear at the bottom where it had ripped when he tried to pull it out of his notebook all those years ago. He hadn’t thought much about the assignment when the teacher gave it. The teacher had instructed the class to write down their dreams. She’d smiled fondly when someone had spoken up and said they didn’t remember any of their dreams from the night before.

“Not those dreams. Write down who you’d like to be someday, what you want to achieve, where those dreams will take you.“

He had blown off the assignment. He had been a serial underachiever and this one had been nothing new. Trying to be cheeky he had simply written. “I want to rule the world.”

Now he sat in the off white waiting room. It had that yellowish tinge to everything. The kind where you couldn’t tell if someone had picked a disturbing not quite white for the walls or if it was just poor lighting. The kind where it almost always tells you, that your experience there, isn’t going to be good.

“Scott!” The door stood open halfway. A man with a suit and glasses propping the door open with his foot. “Scott!”

Scott strode across the waiting room. When he neared, the man simply turned and proceeded down a hallway. Scott lunged to catch the door before it closed all the way and followed. They entered an office and the man turned sideways to fit through the space left between the desk and the wall. The chair for guests was pressed back against the wall already with mere inches between it and the desk. Scott had to climb in the chair and slide down into a seated position. Scott was used to far better accommodations. Bringing it up now was a moot point though.

“So you’re federation staute 18.31.093c has ended?”

“Uh.”

“The time period allowed for the pursuit of your childhood dreams has ended.” The man had explained in an annoyed tone. He had apparently ran out of patience after his one and only question, so far.

“Yes it has. I applied for an extension.”

“Yup. It was denied. ” The man tapped at his keyboard. “I see you’ve applied for and been granted multiple extensions already.”

“Yes, I have. I felt I was very close to being able to achieve my childhood dream. I just needed a little more time.” Scott smiled and put on his best doe eyes.

The man gave him a blank stare.

He flashed back to his father’s advice when he was asked how he planned to rule the world. His father had held the assignment paper out to him pointing to the top of it. The same paper he held now with an F scribbled at the top.

“How do you plan to rule the world?” His father asked, face red.

“I’d be a superhero.” Scott stood proudly. He hadn’t been serious when he wrote the answer, but since turning it in he’d daydreamed of what it meant and how he could make it happen.

His father laughed. Not a quick bark. Nor a chuckle. His father had laughed and laughed and finally with one short statement changed Scott’s life.

“Kid, nice guys always finish last.”

Scott blinked as the bespectacled man stopped typing.

“Let’s see. Based on your personality test, grades, and teacher reports…you’ve been slated to be a…” the man drew out the sound of the a “Teacher.”

Scott flinched visibly.

“A what?”

“Teacher. You know what a teacher is? Someone who passes knowledge onto children and young adults.”

“I hardly think I would have qualified for that.”

“You’d be surprised what it takes to qualify to be a teacher.” The man glanced over at him. “It takes something else entirely to be a great teacher. We haven’t figured out how to measure what that thing is though.” He shrugged unconcerned and kept typing.

Scott twirled the ends of his red moustache.

“I don’t think this is really my thing. Is there a way to appeal the extension?”

“No.” The man replied. He stopped typing as he glanced again and noticed Scott smiling.

“Is something amusing?” He took off his glasses and cleaned them. Scott suspected he practiced this move and explanation often. “Most citizens are unhappy with their assigned jobs. Only the highest achievers usually have any amount of satisfaction in what they are assigned. I’m sorry it has to happen this way, but it does.” The man wasn’t sorry. He didn’t even bother to act like he was.

Scott smiled again. The man froze. His nose twitched. Scott noticed a wisp of smoke.

“Do you smell smoke?”

Scott shook silently with laughter.

“Why’s that funny? What’s wrong with you?”

The wall beside Scott began to bubble and Scott cackled as the smoke intensified filling the room. Horrified the bald man reached for the ancient phone on his desk and began to dial. Scott reached over and pressed the hook switch hanging up the call. The wall crumbled away abruptly and left a man sized hole looking out at skyscrapers that pierced a layer of clouds stretched out far below them. A rush of air pulled the smoke out in a rush and the room was suddenly clear. A man, wearing head to toe black clothing, stepped into the room through the newly constructed window and pulled out a neatly folded bundle placing it in Scott’s arms. Then he began helping Scott secure straps on his shoulders and buckles around his chest and legs Scott had to shout to be heard over the roar of the wind outside the opening.

“I’ve decided to continue chasing my childhood dream! I’m approving my own extension request and soon I’ll rule the world. This is just the beginning. It’s all in motion.” Scott leaned over the desk until he was nearly nose to nose with the man. “When nice guys finish last, you have to get there through other means. I’ll remember you and come calling soon.” He slipped a black card into the man’s suit pocket. His henchman stepped to the hole and gave Scott a all set pat before grabbing the rope. Both he and the rope disappeared upward as Scott stepped to the opening. He turned and faced the man with glasses.

“Vini. Vidi. Vici.” He shouted.

Then he leisurely stepped backwards into the open air. The man with glasses flinched as the roar of a ship filled the room. Out of the opening he could see Scott grasping a rope and waving. His recently acquired red cape fluttering around him as he faded into the horizon.

Pain sizzled up Barack’s calf. Stifling a curse, he hobbled to a chair. In the near dawn darkness, their bedroom was a minefield. One of Willow’s matchbox cars, a bright red Corvette, was tangled in his sock. Head in his hand, Barack rubbed his foot. Every part of him ached this morning.

He’d promised Faith that he had stopped working the case. Barack had kept his word about checking out master’s degree programs. He was spending more time with the kids, hence the traffic jam of mini race cars on their bedroom rug. Barack wanted to do better. He knew it was time to leave the police force.

But Ashanti held him fast. His big sister who loved to boss him around, who always made him grits and eggs, Ashanti who would always be fourteen years old, she was the smartest person Barack ever met. Ashanti walking him to elementary school on that last day. Barack pictured Ashanti waving goodbye before running back home for her math book. In the near darkness, Barack fumbled for his shoes. Each morning instead of going to the gym the detective worked his big sister’s murder case.

There was genealogy DNA, links to a serial killer working out of Ohio during the 1990s, and age regressed suspect drawings. He was waiting for an email from a special cold case unit. His career in law enforcement began on that day, the last day with his sister. Ashanti waved to him from the dresser mirror.

Barack tiptoed towards their bedroom door. His wife’s even breathing pulled at his every step. A pale finger of light crept in as he opened their door. A sudden fmemory flashed. Was that a red four door sedan following his sister that day? He grabbed at the memory.

“Barry,” Faith said sleepily from the bed.

Dreamlike, the memory slipped away. He didn’t turn as Faith sat up. She looked at his gym bag still sitting on the hamper. Turning her back, Faith pretended to sleep. To himself, Barack promised he would do better.