There are a lot of sad dreams in this world, too many, perhaps. Dalkulla doesn’t mind, though; she collects them, those sad dreams. She wanders through this world, her long striped net trailing behind her. She holds it high, as far above her head as she can, so that she can catch the dreams that people have let go of, the dreams that people have let drift away. Those are the saddest dreams, the ones no one believes in anymore.
Dalkulla finds comfort in the forgotten dreams of others. She likes to know she’s not the only one who doesn’t feel quite right in her skin; she likes to know she’s not the only one who’s looking for something more.
When her net becomes full, Dalkulla sifts through the loneliest of the dreams she’s collected and stores them in empty mason jars. Sometimes, maybe after a day, maybe after a year, she finds two dreams that complete each other and pours them into one jar. It makes her think that maybe, just maybe, one day she’ll find a dreamer who completes her too.