She came to me, then, just after I had slain the monster and was picking gristle out of my hair. She was very beautiful and I was worried that I didn’t look good since I couldn’t get the blood out of my shirt.
“So, I’ve slain the monster. Can I please be happy now?”
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
“Why does it have to be so hard? Why did I have to kill this monster, anyways? Couldn’t I have been happy before?”
She took out a flute and started bending it, which made dream-logic at the time. “The goal too easily won is lightly cast away,” she replied.
I rolled my eyes, and replied, “I promise that if I win the lottery I will not throw the winning ticket away.”
She looked at me intently. “Put it this way: before, you wouldn’t have appreciated what you had. Now, when you finally achieve some measure of happiness, you will treasure it.”
She started playing her instrument that was now a trumpet, and I tried to wash my hands and get the blood from under my fingernails, and then I woke up.
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