That afternoon on the trail was one of the most halcyon and relieving in my life. I remember how colossal the hills looked and how their curvature arched over the withered fields from the scorching sunlight. It was as if a conflagration had swallowed up the land; there was something so curious about it. It was a cemetery, and although the thin tails of smoke slithered throughout the decayed terrain, they hissed mellifluous poetry among each charcoal patch. I had never been so tempted to explore among the dead. But the radiant sunlight directed my attention to a more verdant and lively part of the trail. A plot of land with a village of grand trees, bearing a foliate playground where I saw sprightly souls prancing among the giant roots of the umber columns. I wanted to join them and let the carriage of the branches cradle me into a slumber from which I could never recover. I wanted to spill my soul into each flower I saw blooming and submit to the grasp of each soaring creature that sliced the wind as it ferried the lush tresses of each willow tree west. My mother had a hard time …show more content…
To the sides of me were brick walls with amorphous designs done by graffiti artists. My eyes found stories in the motley chronicles, and I traced each line and curve until I reached a sandy area with a crescent of rocks almost encircling me. There was access to the ocean and I felt two sensations bouncing around in my heart, deafening the rationality of my mind. I felt like I wanted to run into the water and never stop. Even if I was treading it, I would keep going into the misty offing until the waves caged me and I drowned. The other feeling was quite juvenile as I wanted to splash around the water and collect the seashells. In that moment, I had no reins to hold me back. I was not even thinking of you. There was a slight possibility, which could have incentivized the first sensation I felt. My mother asked me if I would like some time alone. “Yes, I