I could feel the dream turning bad. On the outside, the shell was unblemished, unchanged. They didn't notice that their seeds were rotting, that the land they had sown was too depleted and worn. I wanted to tell them but every moment was the wrong moment. So they kept believing that the weather would change and the good harvest would come and that we would have laughter and flowers again. I didn't know how to tell them about the world of unbalanced equations. I didn't know how to explain that 100 + 100 sometimes equaled zero, that spending money didn't always guarantee a return. I didn't want to tell them about bad investments, that they could go sour.
The unfairness sat on the table in its half empty glass and you drank it down like bitter medicine after breakfast.