The world is a disk; a large flat land with no trees. It's only as large as my range of vision, though I believe I see a curve in all directions. The plane is covered with the most green and lush grass I've ever seen. The sky is a beautiful deep, clear blue. The only clouds are very thin and translucent, like stretched out cotton candy. I am sitting cross-legged in the middle of the land, just taking in everything. I look into this world as a spectator. I actually see myself. Then, not too far away I notice a white structure that looks Greek influenced. It's made of white Vermont sand stone with marble steps, stone columns, and a gold domed top. The whole thing is surrounded by a mote of sand. I stand up. The grass is cool, but not wet. I'm walking to the building. The sand is so fine it feels like I'm stepping on cool silk. The marble steps are very smooth, and are cool as well. The door is three times as tall as I am. Inside there is only one room. It's completely empty and very, very large. Despite there's no windows it's quite bright. The room is also very blue; as blue as it is outside, but undisturbed by clouds. I'm looking around the room. In the very center is a gold column. White light emanates off of that and fades to a gold aura. I am reflected dully from the gold, with the luster of tin foil. I am an indefinable shape. From my reflection a very tall man, much older than I, seems to cross over into this existence. He's wearing a black suit, white shirt, black tie, and his hair is slicked back. He embraces me. A beautiful light shines off the two of us. Behind him a woman steps out. She's dressed in a flowing, white dress of near gauze and white, satin ribbons. Her hair is golden and curled. I embrace her. As we do botanical rapture begins to vine up and around the room. A forest mushrooms at out feet and blends with the architecture. An energy is received from it. All three of us share it; Unconditional Love.
A shrieking crash pulls me away. Something breaks. I open my eyes. The room is dark. The house is still. The shouting ceases. This is where I go when my parents fight.
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Short Story / Literary Fiction
Book / Literary Fiction
Poem / Poetry
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