Perfect World?

I was recently a little kid again.

I went to the park and got on a swing.

I swung my legs back and forth, then jumped.

I arrived in a time and place where everlasting light accompanies you.

I wanted to walk around and explore.

See what this place is, what makes it, and shapes it?

The sky was clear, a perfectly blue ocean.

The sun was shining bright, and the flowers bloomed like there was no tomorrow.

I noticed a little girl flying a kite, beautiful brown braided hair.

A red bow in her hair, pink satin dress, with a flower decoration on her dress.

I walked and sat on the bench nearby.

The little girls dad walked up, picked her up, and hugged her.

They twirled and twirled, not stopping.

The mother lying on the picnic towel getting the food ready.

Juicy watermelon and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I decide to walk over and ask if I may join them.

On my way of walking over, I think to myself.

This place is to perfect, it has to be a dream.

No place exists that is filled with perfection to this level.

I stop in mid stride, and then continue walking.

When I get to the picnic the little girls mom is sitting away from me.

May I join you I ask?

The mom turns around and I fall away with disgust.

I see her bare flesh, bones and all.

The little girl taps me from behind; I notice she has only one eye.

And an empty socket for the other.

The dad walks over and you can see his insides.

His heart barely beating.

I had stumbled backwards and fell into a sand pit.

I am sinking and have no way to get out.

The family is trying to pull me out of this dreaded sand pit.

I choose not to grab and become engulfed.

I awake back in the park.

My eyes open and I sit up.

Theirs a family sitting out in the field having a picnic.





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