Here, every whisper was a shout, every glance a judgment, and every thought a potential heresy. One fine and ironically sunny day, Don Quixote, our antiquated and somewhat unhinged knight, found himself and his often perplexed squire, Sancho Panza, unceremoniously dumped into this extraordinarily ‘awake’ world. In Wokeland, the trees were offended by the wind’s unsolicited touch, and the sun was petitioned daily for shining too…
