This tale was written based on the following prompts
My boss called me into her office and silently handed me a piece of a paper instructing me to follow my dreams, and suddenly I was afraid.
My dreams have a way of imploding, but like layers of cloud, his instructions couldn’t be dismissed.
For days I worried, growing weary like the old dilapidated tree which has seen better days, but eventually my thoughts turned to her, and I was reminded that dreams don’t sleep peacefully.
So, I grabbed the flowers and my courage, hopped on my bike and headed in your direction, passing that tree which had stood sentinel with a wry smile.
There was only one way this would end, in disaster … and I was right, as the rain began…
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