Lying on the scratchy, gold carpet, I gazed up at the cardboard box sitting on the narrow shelf. Inside the box was my completed manuscript. As I reached up to grab it, I tripped on a string draped across the front right corner of the box, which then tipped the box into mid-air. Instead of the pages of a manuscript, about 100 colorful candies flew down to the carpet. And in slow motion I watched them as they danced around each other in some sort of folkloric waltz – bright blues, greens, and reds – mocking me at what I had done, and hadn’t done.