Forgot your password?

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

Sign in

  • I have this dream.

    It's not really a dream as much as it is a vision.

    It's kind of like a memory that I've never had.

    That I often play back in my mind when I get like this.

    The thing is, in the memory, you and I are little kids.

    Maybe we don't look like the way we did, but maybe more like the way we would if we could go back in time and dress ourselves in the current trends of today.

    I have jet black hair that is curly and wild - like when I get out of the water in the summertime.

    You have dressed yourself in an old civil war like uniform and are carrying a shotgun across your back.

    You have a cap on.

    I have a bright red coat on.

    We are walking in the snow. In the wilderness.

    It's bright out. I have dark berry lipstick on and really white skin.

    We are not walking together, but rather there is a camera caught on you for a while, and then me.

    The people watching know that we are headed for one another. Two kids hunting in the snow.

    The snow falls down, and I stick my tongue out to catch it.

    You point your gun at a fox.

    There is suddenly a big fire - a house burning down.

    We both run to it and meet.

    We dance together, an old slow waltz, but now we are adults, but we are wearing the same outfits.

    We get close enough to kissing. The music swells.

    And big big hooks come down from the sky - like the ones people catch fish on.

    We start running through the woods. Holding on to each-others hands.

    Dodging trees.

    One grabs you by your coat.

    As you are lifted, so far away into the sky, you drop a snowglobe down.

    Inside the snowglobe is the woods with the same little house, little porcelain people - a girl with a bright red coat on and a boy with a gun.

    Sometimes I catch the snowglobe.

    Sometimes it drops and shatters to a million pieces.

    And then it's just me.

    And the fox.

    Then the music stops.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


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.