She came before me out of the moist predawn ground, as insubstantial as
the morning fog, breathtaking beauty obscured by her very nature.
“Boo,” she said.
“Boo to you too,” I replied. “Are a ghost?”
“I am the Ghost of Dreams Past,” she replied. “I am here to show you what you once dreamed for…”
“Why?” I replied. “While everything is not perfect, my life is much better than many others. I should be thankful for what I have.”
“A steady paycheck, decent health, good friends and family, a nondescript life? This is the sum total of your potential? You wanted to save the world, once.”
“I still do,” I told her. “But I wonder if I was being unrealistic.”
“I wonder if you’re being foolish,” she answered back curtly.
The sun rose at that point, driving her away, leaving me to wonder about her words.
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