For as long as he can remember, every night my roommate has a dream of flying. But not in a plane, a space ship, or a freefall. In his dreams, he can simply…..fly. Sometimes dancing like a dervish from tree to tree, sometimes soaring with the bellowing winds of a storm, sometimes outracing tornadoes and hurricanes, and sometimes waltzing along the tips of the lilies in the field as they sway to the rhythm of the autumn breeze.
Every morning I have the privilege of listening to his spine-tingling adventures from the night before. “Where did your dream take you this time?!” “What color was the sky?” “How high did you go?!”
If there is one thing that defines my roommate’s subconscious, it’s that he defies gravity. And as it turns out, his favorite word happens to be “GRAVITY”.
So last night I crept into his room while he was sleeping and placed a freshly engraved key in the palm of his hand. He awoke slightly, glanced at his key, and let out a soft, peaceful whisper: “gravity.” He closed his eyes and fell right back asleep. I quietly headed for the door. But before I killed the light, I glanced back at him, only to find his hand tightly clasping onto the key. Eyes closed, he smiled the smile of contentment; the smile that can only stem from someone who defies gravity, who is peacefully gliding through the star-studded sky as the rest of the world is sleeping.