LUNCH WITH THE STARS
Dreamed 1981/2/2 by Chris Wayan
I was a member of a dance group of animal-people, warm and loving. I felt so good, touching them and being touched. Held and hugged. And for me this wasn't easy: when you grow up feral, it's hard work to belong.
In the morning I feel sad that this vague Disney memory is all that's left. Like a teddy bear, mocking the reality of the true bear, an animal we once worshiped...
I decide to console myself by splurging for once. So I go out to The Terrace, a fancy restaurant here in town, with a terrace garden where famous stars can often be spotted doing lunch.
It's true, too! Four stars at the next table (no, I couldn't name them, but you could tell) talk of their current appearances when they're not in human form: huge glowing balls of gas.
An old star starts reminiscing--"In the old days we had so many forms to choose from! Humans were so ignorant then--more belief systems than fleas! A smorgasbord of notions about us... And now they're so... so damn accurate."
"It's okay, kid" says the old star. "We know that."
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