sparkles

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I dreamt that I was in a meadow full of flowers, high up a Washington State mountain with a view of nothing but trees. Under the hot midday sun the flock of vampires sparkled, thousands and thousands of sparkly vampires. Edward Cullen was there, the most brightly sparkling vampire of them all ... Having to stop at the kerb to check for passing cars brings me out of my imagination and plonks me right back into the Real World. I am not in a sunny meadow filled with the fictional undead of Twilight, but merely trudging along the High Street, the dense frost sparkling under the light from the lampposts, like a billion zillion diamonds in an - as yet undiscovered - diamond infested mine. And then I got on the bus and my calm, peaceful mood was swiftly interrupted by Mr Chatty, the snappy happy chatty bus driver. There should be a law against so much random happy chatter at six forty-five in the morning. *sigh*