But Dreams Have Ways Of

You're In The Right Place At The Right Time, And You Care Enough To Do What Needs To Be Done. Sometimes That's Enough.

The Circus Arrives Without Warning.

The Night That Seemed Endless Hours Before Is Now Slipping Through Your Fingers, Ticking By As It Falls Into The Past And Pushes You Towards The Future.

Perhaps It Is Controlling The Chaos Within More Than The Chaos Without.

Only The Ship Is Made Of Books, Its Sails Thousands Of Overlapping Pages, And The Sea It Floats Upon Is Dark Black Ink.