I fall backward into my bed and I close my eyes and I’m back in the gorges, except the sun, clouds, and river rock are all puffy, pastel marshmallows, the sky twinkling with sugar grains, and silver spoon trees swaying in the frosted sugar breeze and singing about love, about happiness. Kate and I in the middle of it all, drifting lazily down a milk river, our butts flopped in giant Froot Loops. We’re holding hands and partly singing along, partly laughing, because what’s going to happen when our cereal tubes get soggy?
