I’ve done it time and time again. As the dark void overtakes me, the anticipation for adventure grasps my soul and sets my heart ablaze. It’s the same every time. I open my eyes to nothingness, then like a wave breaks upon the sturdy ocean rocks, my psyche is bombarded by the overwhelming presence of wondrous displays: an aurora of light, mingling with the soothing sounds of nature and church bells, and the sweet aroma of cherry blossoms and rain. Nothing can compare. By now, you may be wondering what happened to me. No, I did not faint, undergo surgery, or do any form of narcotics. I simply closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall into the empty void that is my imagination. It is where the line between fact and fiction is smeared into oblivion,
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Warmth radiated through my body as I floated in a void of nothingness, until my feet found sturdy ground and the sweet darkness faded away. It was slow at first, a glimpse or two of stars and a tingling in my hands and feet. Then, my world exploded into an unyielding waterfall of sensations. As my new world came into view, my heart quickened with the anticipation of adventure. It smelled of moisture and dirt, the kind of sweet smell you only get after a spring rain, leaving the earth refreshed and its inhabitants renewed. As I tentatively opened my eyes, I realized that I was laying beneath an ancient sycamore tree. Light playing on the leaves and casting irregular patterns of gold onto my face, and the face of the person lying beside me. I roll over to see a man, who I have known all my life, sleeping soundly despite the hard rocks beneath us. I inhale deeply as I stare up into intermingling patterns of branches and leaves. The air smells like rain and freshly cut grass, my favorite smell in the …show more content…
Five minutes went by, then ten. I knew that I should wake him, but the sight of him stopped me; his usually serious face was calm and peaceful, and a slight smile danced upon the corners of his lips. Even the muscles in his shoulders, which were usually tense, were relaxed. He reminded me of the boy I used to know. As I reminisced, the sun began to dip beneath the tree line. I knew that the damage had already been done; we had missed Sunday lunch, and dinner, but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed every minute I could get with Dean. As we laid there, the stars began to come out and the night air sang with excitement. I could hear wolves howling in the distance. Nearby, I could hear the rustling of feathers, and the coo of an owl. Something swooped overhead, the figure of a winged predator loomed above us, looking for prey. I love the night: the sights, the smells, and the sounds. The breeze begins to pick up and Dean groans slightly in his sleep and rolls over; I recognized that groan. I had heard it a million times, it was the noise he made when he was not going to wake up regardless of what you did. As I laid there, I could feel ever bump and groove underneath me. Goosebumps prickled my skin from the brisk breeze. I curled up against Dean, and laid my head against his chest. Every noise stirred my weary bones and set my heart ablaze. I could feel Dean’s heartbeat. It
Warmth radiated through my body as I floated in a void of nothingness, until my feet found sturdy ground and the sweet darkness faded away. It was slow at first, a glimpse or two of stars and a tingling in my hands and feet. Then, my world exploded into an unyielding waterfall of sensations. As my new world came into view, my heart quickened with the anticipation of adventure. It smelled of moisture and dirt, the kind of sweet smell you only get after a spring rain, leaving the earth refreshed and its inhabitants renewed. As I tentatively opened my eyes, I realized that I was laying beneath an ancient sycamore tree. Light playing on the leaves and casting irregular patterns of gold onto my face, and the face of the person lying beside me. I roll over to see a man, who I have known all my life, sleeping soundly despite the hard rocks beneath us. I inhale deeply as I stare up into intermingling patterns of branches and leaves. The air smells like rain and freshly cut grass, my favorite smell in the …show more content…
Five minutes went by, then ten. I knew that I should wake him, but the sight of him stopped me; his usually serious face was calm and peaceful, and a slight smile danced upon the corners of his lips. Even the muscles in his shoulders, which were usually tense, were relaxed. He reminded me of the boy I used to know. As I reminisced, the sun began to dip beneath the tree line. I knew that the damage had already been done; we had missed Sunday lunch, and dinner, but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed every minute I could get with Dean. As we laid there, the stars began to come out and the night air sang with excitement. I could hear wolves howling in the distance. Nearby, I could hear the rustling of feathers, and the coo of an owl. Something swooped overhead, the figure of a winged predator loomed above us, looking for prey. I love the night: the sights, the smells, and the sounds. The breeze begins to pick up and Dean groans slightly in his sleep and rolls over; I recognized that groan. I had heard it a million times, it was the noise he made when he was not going to wake up regardless of what you did. As I laid there, I could feel ever bump and groove underneath me. Goosebumps prickled my skin from the brisk breeze. I curled up against Dean, and laid my head against his chest. Every noise stirred my weary bones and set my heart ablaze. I could feel Dean’s heartbeat. It