Memories Can I still dream, Mom? I was asking as a child, it was a mild day of spring, I still remember that thing coming all the way from the sky, towering the cities, it was high, and I might have looked out of sight, with my red winter shoes, as it was still cold, I was not entirely sold on the idea of being some extra-terrestrial overlord. But then my inner eye was open once more, and I remembered who I was. A god. The rest of the story, with all its glory, you can read it in some old Indian book, Ramayana, take a look. And then I wake up. It was morning, 2023. You see?