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Copyright Paul Cantrell |
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The Traveler's Daydream Leaving, his mind plays games -- the clouds are islands in an air-sea, Buddhist forests and impossibly concave salt bluffs overlooking fantasic airships and jellyfish. And -- On the ocean floor, almost ready to leave her desk, he sees her touch a hand to her cheek and hesitate -- should she allow her mind to play just one game, and let the hand be his? -- Then he blinks it away, and deliberately returns to his book, keeping his mind to safer games of others' conception. | ||