“You're a Dreamer.” I wonder what she dreams about. I'd love to pick at her brain. Writing is led by incessant amounts of creativity we cannot contain so we scribble it out on paper. It's like a superpower. “A what?” She questions me almost in disbelief, like I'm the first person to pay interest in her and understand her. “You want something far greater than you can comprehend, you live in a realm unknown to the human eye just to escape.”
