Perfect day

The day started just like any other bright, halcyon day. The sky was a brilliant turquoise, the sun a radiating amber. The water on the crystal lake was still except for a few, gentle ripples the duck caused as she floated aimlessly on the water. The sporadic trees were moving gracefully with the breeze. In just this moment, this hiatus of time, everything was perfect; still as if captured forever by film.

We were simple hoi polloi people; neither rich nor poor, geniuses nor imbeciles, distinguished nor careless. Although we were a heterogeneous group of five, we shared at least one thing in common: we were hedonists. We viewed the stunningly vivid day as a good harbinger. The sun was shining, almost spotlighting the park, marking it a hallowed harbinger to us. That was what drew us there.

Shortly after we arrived at this ideal scene, we noticed the odd behavior of the animals. Looking again at the landscape around us, the sight shifted slightly. The sky was a blinding blue, the sun a harsh yellow, the water a frigid clear. The duck gazed with to-much-to-be-normal curiosity and the trees bent to wood-splintering angles. Thinking as one, we made a hegira to the park entrance only to find that the gates we had broken through were once again hermetic.

The End

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