In the dream, there was a public square where people rented expressions for the day.
Some chose credibility.
Some chose warmth.
Some chose authority with a trace of fatigue, which was especially fashionable.
For an added fee, the vendor could fit your face with a convincing form of inner peace.
I asked whether anyone still wore their own.
The vendor smiled in a way that implied both pity and premium pricing.
Then I woke with the distinct impression that this had not been a dream at all, only a slightly more honest rendering of Tuesday.
M◆
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Lovely, thanks for the predinner distraction. <3 I love your writing. <3