I was in America.
Awake.
Sitting on the couch, as I so often am.
When suddenly, I realized I was dreaming of John Edwards’ America.
Someday, instead of saying, “this isn’t your grandfather’s America,” we might say, “this isn’t your John Edwards’ America.”
And we would be right.
***
This is part of the Burst series which includes completely random bursts of thought that may or may not provide even a fraction of value to the reader.
***
Also, I sat on this post for a long time, waiting for just the right moment to publish it. I realized there will never be a good moment to publish this post, so here it is.