Dream, Part 2

I am trying to hear them all, but I can't hear .................I look down
at my dusty red shoes, and with a sly smile and half closed eyes, I hold my
goldfish bag to my chest. I can hear it now. There it is. And I twirl to the
side. Glissade, pas de chat, grand jete. I have no idea where I'm going. When I
open my eyes, the air and light is different and someone is still with me. It's -

- Just the gold fish. Or rather, the goldfish. No "just," 'cause they are lovely company. We're by the river and I let them loose in it. They find a cozy little pool along the side and I build a bridge over it, so I can put my feet in and converse with the fish. Eventually I decide I like it so much that I build a tiny house over the whole bridge. Every now and then, a traveler wanders through, and I like the company.

The fish and I write a brilliant book together, using the penname "BoJangles and Horn Section."

I'm not sure, but I think we live happily ever after.