My fantasies beckoned me to stay. They started to cry when they realized I was beginning to become wise.

They latched on to me like a leech and with desperate, pursed lips,

they whispered, “please stay.”

I was living in a dystopian world that ardently claimed it to be utopian.

Indeed, I was flying on a carpet, but I would soon jump off to what I tried to fly away from —

Reality.