I dreamt that I was enjoying a remarkable evening with friends. The night was warm and exotic with torches and candlelight throwing shadows across the bare ground and rough table. We talked and laughed over a timeless dinner. I got up to use the women’s room. It was on my way back to the table that the miracle happened.
I walked in a wide aisle between massive crates overflowing with flawless fruit stacked higher than my head. I heard compelling Latin music. The dirt beneath my feet turned to a smooth white surface as my body began to dance. Stunned, I glanced down at my white-girl feet moving in perfection to the sultry music. Then I was dancing atop the mangoes and watermelon without missing a beat, without damage, without ever having to stop.
