I have built a crude lean-to shelter on the side of a mountain.
Far below me is a pristine river.
It is not large or not small; just right.
Canoes sometimes come down the river.
They are not welcome; as far as I am concerned. It is my secret fishing spot.
I never go to the river to fish when there are canoes coming. I spy on them from my vantage point. I am hidden by my lean-to made of pine and hemlock boughs.
I never seem to actually fish in my secret river. But I do not want anyone else to fish there either.
Homicide may occur if they do fish there. I plead guilty on my second offense.
(Additional dreams will be published in the following days. In the meantime you may check out my books – – HERE – – if you wish.)
§©♠ w. tomosky