I hear the whisper of mysterious things in the quiet hour before I dream.
I’m in a hotel in Denver. The Rockies are just beyond the city lights: cold and sharp, great big triangles that pierce the low-hanging western sky. Inside, I sit with a towel wrapped around my shoulders and my mind wrapped around a thought. The thought of Belize. The thought of leaving the country for the first time. The thought of sleeping on the beach and kayaking in the Caribbean.
These thoughts were once dreams, and tomorrow these thoughts will be a reality. I bought the ticket, and now I will take the ride: from America to Belize, from the comfort of home to a land of mystery.
Soon I will sleep, and then I will wake and live the life I have dreamed of. Goodnight from Denver.
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