Yellowbetty was looking at me with a conspiring grin and a wink that said lets go and not return, for the hour at least. Let’s take this spring day and roll on by, past picnics and car crashes and screaming toddlers alike, let’s dream this fine Sunday alive. So I’ve been working hard at my daydreams. I have etched out a fantasy in which, there are no castles in the sky, but every hard road is a grassy path where there hides an abundance of tea and sugar in tiny yellow cups and people speak not of peace, for they have known no war and gentle waves crash on sandy shores, sandy shores greet grassy plains and there where the blades dance, my heart beats again.