you dream away
to a distant land,
shimmering
with a glow
unearthly,
never seen before,
.
you go prancing around-
letting your feet drown
in the desert sand,
raising your hands
letting them clutch air
and feel its feel
in the end,
.
sit under a silver tree
crimson fruits hanging,
curb yourself
from sinking your teeth into
the luscious
spheres of poison,
.
let your skin
absorb the bright
sunbeams,
let it burn
and sigh in relief,
.
feel the jets of water,
on your palms,
spewing forth from
an unknown source
and grab the golden goblet
out of thin air
and have some water,
end up spilling
some of it
on your cheeks,
.
hearing the thundering steps
of the giant
still yards away,
yet to arrive,
you do not go hide,
but run around
in no direction,
tired out,
sitting down
on a picnic bench
waiting,
.
let yourself be grabbed
in those massive hands,
producing
an inaudible sound;
.
the next moment
that comes to you,
you find yourself
waking up,
finding yourself
in the park,
lying under the ordinary
red maple,
rain droplets falling
over you in a certain rhythm,
a book resting
on your chest,
turned to the last page
now getting soaked;
.
status:
you are done reading.
* Written in response to Wordle 112