So last night, I had this dream......
I am maybe college age and in a Creative writing class. It is co-ed and people are all ages. I have a poem to read that I think is really good, more the ilk of what I write now versus the Hallmark schmaltz I wrote then. I volunteer to go first and the response is very negative. I slink back to my seat. I listen to a few other writers who receive high praise. I wonder why mine didn't?
Then I just say screw it, pack up my stuff and leave. Why would I sit in a class I"M PAYING FOR to be publicly derided? I have too much stuff and books keep falling out of my arms. Most of them are the required reading for the class I just left. I leave them where they lay, a trail of breadcrumbs to a place I will never return
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