You send me a card. It’s made of old discolored paper that has dry flowers and leaves stuck all over it like a criss-crossing cage of forbidden dreams. And then insects begin to crawl out of it. I scream and throw the card away as a rare brown grasshopper, a golden scarab beetle, and another strange beautiful insect come out. Then a black and red insect flies up like a magical helicopter. I hope it would hit the fan and die .. by now I hate you for sending me these little monstrosities when you know fully well that I’m frightened to death about them. And then I begin to love those very insects.. after all they are a gift from you. They must mean a lot to you.. yet you shared them with me. I ask my husband to collect them and put them in a box. He does it real quick because the insects are crawling into some hiding spaces. And then I find a gift package with the card. A satin collar in pastel pink, shaped like a huge delicate rose. A cuff in a similar fashion. As I wear these, they morph into a red and purple dress with a hat. I look stunning in it. I curse myself for suspecting your love but my husband is not very pleased about this whole turn of events. I pleadingly look to him for approval and the dream ends.