Steve Brylski

In a bar once, Fate sauntered in my direction with a sly grin and a coy glimmer in her eyes. She bought me a drink that night---2% milk with a tropical umbrella--and showed me a vision of what my future holds.

A nice home?

Good job?

A beautiful wife with a family and a dog?

Yes. All of that was there, but her vision was locked away in a glass box. Easy to see... not so easy to hold and call my own.

Seemed like a cruel game to show me something so perfect, only to keep my hand from reaching, taking, and having for myself.

And then she spoke to me.

"Spend more time acting on your dreams than you do writing unnecessary biographies for profile websites... and see what happens."

Back to work, people.