There is an vacant lot at the end of our street, and it is covered in dandelions. Not the yellow ones, the ones that are white and look like a cotton ball that you blow on and watch it scatter to the wind. As Jen drove by it one night she disparaged it calling it a field of dreams. Alex was astonished, and corrected her: "No Mom. It is a field of wishes."
RAP (5.17.2007)
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