So, what do you do after a bath, dream sheep mused. There is always this gap that can’t be closed by jumping over it, because there is this uncomfortable period of time where you body intensely remembered bathing, but your mind has already decided on other stuff ahead in time. You are almost literally stuck between two realities, because the skin is a bit too moist to get dressed, but also too cold not to.

Dream sheep thought why so many things in life aren’t mentioned in the dictionary. Why did nosheep come up with that eery feeling of meeting somesheep and the prolonged inner shame of realising that you forgot this other sheep’s name? I mean, you can’t just call them all ‘mäh’, that would be way too conspicuous.

And why is there no word for a sheep who has lost a sibling? He thought: the feeling of actually loosing a sibling is real, why does that feeling not get acknowledgement by having the new role to be born into life by actual words?

That moment you realise that a piece of clothing is put on backwards and you’re not sure if you want to take it off fully to start again, or just pull your arms out to turn it. Added to that the realisation that not being able to choose between those two decisions only adds to the shirt being on backwards and that if you had just went with one decision you’d be done (and dressed) by now. Why did no dictionary jump into that gap? 

A snow flake hitting pupil. No word for that.

And who decided to call fate destiny?

Getting dressed was quite the chore, because of the aforementioned moist skin and every time dream sheep seemed to make progress, the fabric stuck to his fur. He started to feel like an idiot.

And not only to feel like an idiot, Pota, to look like an idiot as well. This shirt is way too small for me, dream sheep said. What is it supposed to be? A neck scarf with two arms? I look like a sheep with a red stripe! What’s the word for that?

Just look at me, Pota! What’s the word for this outfit? Oh, I know; the word is NO!

But the moment dream sheep exhaled the way he did, the shirt fell down to where it was supposed to fall down to.

Oh, jaay, just forget what I just said. I look COOL. Just look at me, with my Denmark shirt ‘n’ all. I am the prince of my castle. I am the bad of my ass. I am the potato chip on my own shoulder. I am the mäh! I can get things accomplished dressed like this. I can get around, I feel like thirty dollars!

So, this is what happened after sheep dried. He got dressed, meanwhile jumping over deep language puddles.

He got goofy.

He got endearing.

He got fierce.

And he got our attention. And he knew exactly how we would call that: love.