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“I have a dream,” she said, as she walked into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He didn’t look up from his coffee. “Was it the one where you fly through candy floss clouds to the Land of Chocolate, where you’re welcomed like a deity? I like that one,” he said.

She folded her arms with a huff and frowned at him. “No,” she said. “Don’t be silly.”

She fell silent as he munched away at his Crunchy Nut Cornflakes.

Finally he looked up. “What was it, then?”

She looked puzzled. “What was what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Your dream. Oh come on, you walked in here like some kind of messiah all ‘I have a dream”, so what was it?”

“You git,” she said, turning away to pour a cup of coffee for herself. “I’ve completely forgotten it now.”

He shrugged. “Oh well. Can’t have been that important then, can it? Have we got any orange juice?”

The image flickered and faded out, and the teacher turned to the class.

“And there you have it,” it said. “All attempts to mind-flux members of the human race into spreading a state of peace and harmony rather than their natural aggression have been derailed in much the same way.”

The class looked at each other and made small beeping noises.

“No talking amongst yourselves,” the teacher said, waving one long digit at them in warning. “If you have questions, raise a tentacle.”

A forest of tentacles arose, and one student was chosen to speak.

“Why are the humans so resistant?”

The teacher nodded. “A very good question, Q’zurkamod. We believe that it is largely due to their exceptionally short attention span. Why, if one were observing this class, I expect they would stop paying attention right about….


© Kari Fay