I dream of one day being a competent writer and touching a few souls

Michael Ray King

hThe Color of Dreams

When I was younger, lets say thirty-five years ago, I owned some dreams. They resided in my head, mostly in my heart, and they swirled like a flock of energetic birds heading for warm southern climes. I would someday realize my potential. I would write something of huge consequence. I would show people a world of wonder. I would wow people with my insight and wisdom.

My dreams manifested in my mind as multi-hued, vibrant gases with no gravitational pull. I floated through them on whimsy, flying like superman in my own little world. The colors, oh my, were so aggressive, so surreal, I knew one day they would form into something big.

Today, I look at the reality of those dreams Most were tied to writing. Some were tied to a woman. Not just any woman, but a woman who knew who she was. A…

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