Where do I want to go? That is a wonderful question, but not an easy one to answer. There are many places in the world I want to visit, but one place I would always go if I could is not a specific location, but a setting. I could not describe it in a few words no matter how hard I tried, so instead, imagine this:
You lay with your back against the ground, the soft grass brushing gently against your skin, tickling your neck as it moves in the wind. Your eyes are closed, blocking out your view of the world, save only for the red glow caused by the light making its way through your eyelids. Your fingers are resting in the long grass to either side of you, the long stocks feel slightly rough against your palm. You know if you were to bring your hand up you would find a soft spot full of seeds at the very top, but you don’t care to try, content where you are.
You lay with your back against the ground, the soft grass brushing gently against your skin, tickling your neck as it moves in the wind. Your eyes are closed, blocking out your view of the world, save only for the red glow caused by the light making its way through your eyelids. Your fingers are resting in the long grass to either side of you, the long stocks feel slightly rough against your palm. You know if you were to bring your hand up you would find a soft spot full of seeds at the very top, but you don’t care to try, content where you are.