In my dreams I endure the most terrible catastrophes, embarrassments quite cringeworthy enough to chill the blood and mortify all souls, circumstances that in reality would simply make me shrink into obscurity, ne’er to trouble mortal nor fiend again. Thankfully, such notions fade most satisfactorily, within a minute, an hour, or a day, to be adapted by the imagination into forebodings, pregnant warnings of the very worst actuality might bring.
The wise, lucky, or best advantaged, circumvent such cataclysms from being, ever crossing the treacherous divide betwixt what might be and what is, halting that possibility utterly, erasing the merest whisper of the word calamity.
Like many another I am all too happy abandon unpleasant or nonplussing nighttime imaginings, with little more than a simple shake of the head to successfully expunging any disconcerting remembrance, then pointedly focusing upon the more probable and acceptable alternatives ever existent there or thereabouts.
