ccfitz

 This Utopia
This waterfall falls in a never-ending cycle, its water pounding on the rocks below it, emitting a steady chorus of thumps.

The Sunrise.

Houses line the lonely streets, and the sun is gradually rising. 
Beautiful flaming rays of gold dance across the barren streets and cast light across the cobblestone brick.

Once upon a time, by a small cottage in a meadow, filled with summer flowers and corn, children played. Their names were “Jack and Sally”. Their father, Greg, was a farmer and built their cottage from the trees in the nearby forest long ago.

Church Street was abuzz with activity as I walked down the brick cobblestones. When I discovered a spot across from the restaurant, the diners there shifted in their seats, obviously bracing for unpleasant squeakiness.