I dreamed of a game.
It was truly a dream for the colors shone with intrinsic light and even the air tasted sweet to my tongue.
I dreamed of a shrew.
A wicked woman, a fairy tale witch, she demanded from each of the players an accounting of our good deeds until the colors faded and our taste buds withered.
Trapped behind bars of vanity, chained with our own golden glory, we languished...
Until with thinly veiled courage, a word was spoken.
A word of freedom for all who knew perfection to be unattainable.
A word of defeat for the evil shrew who was compelled to release us to frolic in freedom.
I dreamed of Grace (Candyland style).