Book3:WereMyDreamIs
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stheboyandsaid, “Thankyouverymuch.Godblessyou.It’sverykindofyou.”Theboygiggledandranbaotherawoofthemwalkedawayholdinghands.Dimitriwasjustfeelingboredwwhattodowithhistimewhenherewasatoyhehadnotpyedwithsincehewassmall.Hehadlongfottenthatsuchathied.Pullingoutthestopper,hedippedhistinystrawintothebottleandblewonit.Astringofmulti-coloredsoapbubblesfloatedintotheair.Dimitriseemedtohaverecoveredthechildlikeinnoceofhischildhoodandtioblobubbleswithgreatrelisha.Alroundhimwerenoisyfootsteps,somebrisk,andfulloffidehoughhewasblind,Dimitricouldfeelthevibesofthejeeringandsfullookscasthisway,looksthatwerepletelydevoidofhumaiment.Theyseemedtosay,“Timeismoimeproducewealth.Sittingattheerofthestreetisjustwastingtimeandwastingyourlife.Youareadregofsociety,agood-for-nothing!”ButDimitrisattherepletelyignthoseknife-likedigs.Ashetioblobubbles,hemutteredtohimself,“Iliveformyselfalone.Whathasotherpeople’slookshavetodowithme?Tocareabouttheopinionofothersislikeaskingfortroubleandwmyselffornothing…”Themulti-coloredbubblesfloatingupwardsandsoondisappeared.Likedreams,bubblesbursteasily,butsoonotherbubblesfloatuptotheskies,justasotherdreamsetotakethepceoftheirpredecessors..Thus,Dimitri’sblifebecameridfull,andckedfornothing.Hefortedhimselfsaying,”Solongastherearedreams,everythingwillbefine.Solongastherearedreams,lifeisbeautifundIshallwantfornothingandIhingelse.”Heblewanotherfabulouslyrgebubblewhichfloatedupanduptowardstheskies. Dimitrisatthereblowingbubbles.Thestrangeandicfigureofamiddle-agedhomelessperson,whoseattentionwassolelytratedonblowingsoapbubblesusingatoyforyoungboys,arousedthecuriosityofpasserbyers.AlthoughDimitriwasblind,hewasverysensitivetotheatmospherearoundhimandsoohehadbeeaofiocuriouspedestrians.Itwasthenthatherealizedhewasinthewrongpce.Acrossthestreetwasafashionablecaféwhichwasfulnytimeofthedayandpeoplewerestantlyinginoingout.Hestoodupandwalkedtoastreetertoescapethescrutinyofotherpeople. JustatthistimehisloyalservantsImaginationaivitywereminglinginthecrowdihecafe.Theywereliketwogeniihidingintheair.Theycouldseeeverythingbutwereinvisibletoothers.Thestrongaigsmellofcoffeepermeatedthecaféwhilemelodiouslovesongsoftheoldiesthathadretlybeeallthevogue,pyedinthebackground.Goodsongswillnevergooutoffashioronshereallhaveeleicdevifrontofthem,somebigsomesmall.Thebiggestwereaboutthesizeofanotebook,whilethesmallothepalmoftheirhands.Imaginationaivityrememberedthatontheirwaytothiscafé,whetheritwasatbusstops,oronBART,manypassengershadeleicssbeforethem.Everianshurryingontheirwaygncedeverynowasomethingintheirhands.Whatfasationisthereoronicsthatcouldcatchtheattentionofthusmanypeopleforsugatime?Theywereallsoabsorbedthattheireyeballsstaredunblinkinglyatthes! Imaginationlookedamidstthepatronscurioustofindoutwhatcouldattracttheiandattentionofsomanypeople.Shefoundthatsomewerepyingvideogames,someweretryingtosolvedifficultandintricatemathematis,somewerelookingforanddownloadinginformationtheyneededfromthelibrariesandsomewereshoppingonline,buyingclothes,shoes,underwear