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A piece from the literary work of Deborah Boynes: "Breathe ... Alive."

I had another dream. This time I found myself seated in front my television, taking in the enthralling excitement of the Olympics. Everything was happening in living, vivid, 3-D, splendid colour. I was riveted! Up on the screen was the third round of the 100m sprint for men. The starter’s pistol went off, and the race began. Immediately on my screen a flashing yellow light lit up, highlighting lane 4. The race concluded, and the times were displayed. It showed an adjustment t

♫God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay,

Why allyuh human beings like to complexify and complicate-ify things so?"

“So what you doing now that you’re a widower?’

I had a dream. It was – I daresay – an awesome dream. (big borrow from Lionel Richie’s mega-hit “Say You, Say Me.”) I saw that West Indian Sporting History and General Knowledge had been made examinable at SEA, CSEC and CAPE levels, and that the powers-that-be had made School-Based Assessments integral to the structure of these subjects. Dreams most times zip into weird directions. This one didn’t; rather, it zeroed in on cricket. I was seeing respective West Indian governmen