Right before I heard the bang, I also heard her say with a whimper, “growing old isn’t a right, it is a privilege.” 

I asked her, “do dreams die too?” I heard no answer so I asked her again but it was all too late. She died and

I wonder if her dreams died too. I went on dreaming and dancing hoping she was right and I was wrong. 

I started to grow old and realized that it all is a dream. So I guess they do. 

Right before I died, I told him that, “growing old is a privilege, not a right.” He asked me about my dreams and

all I could do was laugh. He smiled and held my hand as I went to a state of beautiful and everlasting repose. I

do not know. I do not know. I will never know. I hope I never know.