Arboretum

Glass reflected overhead, illuminating the room in ethereal rays. Cool cobblestone, mossy and underappreciated, stretched in labyrinths through the space. Vines crept up the walls, floral brush and sweet scents accompanied the light flutter of wings on cheeks. Invisibly dancing through the trees were the twittering eternal songbirds and an unfading hum of orchestral crickets. In the quiet, small benches set into the gentle blue agapanthus and bright pink hyacinths. Tiny unassuming lights dotted the grassy banks and mossy knolls that bookended the tall, protective trees. The paths curled around the centerpiece, a mystical willow bowed low dipping her fingers into a clear stream. A small quatrain of baby duck peeped quietly under her shelter. The stream gurgled, under the small arch of a wooden bridge, just passing through. The succulent hibiscus and whispered drum of hummingbird wings were in perfect accoutrement to the trickling water falls, down past the pansies and foxtrot bathing in a thin mist.

The paths carried through to the other end, where two worlds exchanged skeptical glances.

And into existence, the birth of a door handle.