Route 7 Review | Page 83

A Wardrobe of Stolen Dreams By Beth Konkoski I moved into someone’s dream as it sat like luggage at the airport, waiting to be claimed. The clothes did not fit at first or show off my best side, but I paused, pushed away the doubt through afternoons of a caramel October, until my face seemed to stay that way, the old wives’ tale made true. Turns out I lucked into this dream that could have drained me, stitched me hard inside a nightmare, but didn’t, and now I should relinquish these stolen dreams, but I won’t. Instead I’ll wait out the statute of limitations, set my own limits on the state of my affairs and let myself settle in to dreaming as it becomes mine.