Hope is a thing with tufted wings, wrapped in cotton candy, sweet on the tongue as it melts. It is something intangible and unscientific. We have no empirical data. Hope exists in defiance of the logic of discovery.
This is a love story. The type of story where the star-crossed find each other, and intertwined they bend with the wind, bouncing back to stand stronger and taller.
This is a happy story. When things bend, they become beautiful and interesting.
This is a sad story. Materials can only bend so far before they snap.
