I had the strangest dream.

You and I were living life. Trees blossomed about the garden. It was a summer day, maybe spring, the sun turning the afternoon air to honey.

We were pottering about the house, the kitchen I think, tho' on different things.

A wind blew. Everything and nothing.

Everything and nothing on it's wings, in a blossom borne on the breeze, in the curve of a smile.

A wind blew through me. Everything and nothing, I was, till it passed through me.

Everything...

I turned and asked you what you had said.

I'd been staring at the trees in the garden.

And hadn't heard you.