Crowdfunding: Connecting Creators and Patrons

Eman drifted to sleep with a smile. Every night, he rowed a dream-boat on the water to meet on the soft green island where Iman always waited among a drift of sand and warmth that had tumbled eagerly in his wake. They played and whistled, laughed and chased, all without words. With no language in common, it was still easy to play leaping games and tossing stones, or wet the sand brought by Iman with the wind-sail with the water brought by Eman in his boat to build castles and houses until the night sky faded to indigo. Iman gathered his wind-sail, kicking regretfully back into the sky as dawn pulled at him, and the tide of morning pulled Eman and his dream boat away. The woke, together in separate worlds. (Word count 131)