nce upon a time there was a land which had forgotten how to dream. Not the fleeting dreams one has while one's asleep, nor the wishful rainbow dreaming one does while one's awake. Such fanciful dreaming is not learned - and can never be forgotten.

Throughout the land the people still made exquisite widgets and gem encrusted fleens. Houses fit for princes dotted the countryside and people shuffled paper to and fro with such an efficiency that busy ants stopped in their tracks and looked up in alarm, wondering what had become of the people. Indeed, uncomfortable with the spectacle before them, even the bees had begun to leave this sorry land.

Unable to dream the future, the people began to long for the past with the vengeful passion of one cheated by another. And yet, there were no others, it was they who had forgotten how to dream. No longer able to dream the future in fine and meticulous detail, filling it with smells and sights and sounds so rich and profound that they could step right from the present into their dreams, they fell into squabbling over dividing up the spoils of their past glories.

That's when the old storytellers began to roam the land. Gathering children around them they shared the dreams of generations who had simply dreamed their futures so plentifully that their dreams had come true. Story by story the children saw how things work, how people mold their passions and thoughts into new realities, for themselves and those around them. Story by story the children saw how individuals, and bands of individuals, colonize the future with their dreams, and build their own stories to live in.

Perhaps someday the bees will return to this land, and if they do, that too will be another story worth the telling....

Copyright © Journey Online LLC, 2001-2010
Contact: 307-883-8650
P.O. Box 840 Thayne, Wy. 83127