Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I was a dreamer. Naive. Juvenile. Hopeful.
    I used to sit outside and the world would expand out in front of me. Endless and daunting it was. I didn't know what was on the other side of those encompassing cornfields, but I always dreamed. I imagined grand buildings, eloquently dressed women, ballrooms filled with dancers. I dreamed of being swept off my feet and whisked into the stars.
    And by the stars; they were never-ending and inviting. A gift from the Gods. I would lay on the hill in the backyard and delicately dance my fingers through the constellations and far of galaxies. I would replay the stories in my head of brave fighters and jealous lovers. Of Gods who were ruthless yet merciful, strong yet vulnerable, mortal yet miles out of reach.
    And my dreams would rush past my lips, filling the night air. Running together in one long wish; one long chain of hope. Everything I wanted escaped my body, moving further way with every passing second. Breaking through the atmosphere and joining the Gods. And I hoped that they would one day return.

    I was a dreamer. Naive. Juvenile. Hopeful.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.