This is Oz

The girl next to me looked around, her eyes full of wonder, as if she was seeing something other than what was really surrounding us. Her mouth gaped open, and she even whispered in my ear, "Don't the baby angels look adorable? They're glowing. Literally." Maybe she was delusional.

Around me were rows and rows of trees, a vast and endless forest of emerald except for this road of yellow brick that lay beneath my bare feet. The girl next to me asked if I had ever pictured heaven any differently. I just swallowed the saliva that seemed to have built up underneath my tongue, and nodded.

"Well," she continued, although, not to be mean, A: I wasn't even sure this was heaven, from what I've heard, I was in Oz...and B: She was slightly getting on my nerves. "Well," she repeated, this time more superior sounding, "there are angels, with wings and everything! And we're walking on clouds."

I look over at her, confused. Then I looked down at the Yellow Brick Road, then back over at her.

"Are you sure. Because right now, I'm somewhere over the rainbow."

The End

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