In a dimly lit room, a twelve-year-old kid squirmed on his bed. Beads of sweat trickled from his forehead.
He was dreaming. In his vision, he was on top of an ivory tower when a humongous golden owl snatched and dragged him way up high. It had a pair of green horns and its tube-shaped red eyes zoomed ahead where a mountain loomed.
The kid screamed and screamed as they flew and flew until the bird's feathers blazed in gold like a plane catching fire.
"Nooo!" the kid said. He kept on flailing his hands in the air, struggling for freedom. But when the bird reached the peak, he was freed from its grasp.
The kid jolted from his nightmare, smiling—a bizarre reaction for someone of his age. He stretched his hand to the side, reaching for the phone on the nearby shelf and dialed a number.
After a few seconds, the call connected.
"Osho! I've got it! I've found a name and logo for our team!" said the boy in high spirits.
