I was walking down a farm road; snowy peaks sprawled across the horizon. The stark cobalt sky and the dry gold grass on the hills told me I was high in the Andes, on the altiplano.

At a crossroad, on top of a rough stone wall, looking out over the fields, perched a woman with the distant gaze of a hawk. And hawk wings.

She was beautiful, if a bit frightening. I stared at her. Well, gawked, I guess. I was too shy to speak. She ignored me, intent on the far hills.

Then the President of the World strolled up.

He waved his hand at the woman on the wall, and said "She's an angel--you're like a WORM to her." I blinked at that.

He got louder. "She finds you

LOW!
EARTHBOUND!
DISGUSTING!"

And I wonder--just why was the President of the World trying so hard to keep us apart?

But before I could test his warnings by climbing the stone wall up to the hawk-angel's perch... I woke.

IN THE MORNING

I didn't know what to make of this, so I started sketching the hawk-girl different ways, trying to recall her expression and body language.

The hawk-angel looked a little fierce, but I think I'd have dared to speak to her, in time. That wasn't the problem.

The President of the World was the problem--decoying, delaying, denying, de...lying.

I wish I'd seen through him faster, and gone on to face her. I blew it.

Still, I did learn something: the President of the World, that inner loudmouth saying I'm dull, not worth dating, literally beneath women (who are all angels, apparently)... is someone I disliked on sight.

Disliked and disrespected.

Disbelief may take a little longer, but... it's a start.

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