Outside? Never.

[Lunariette]

My pasty flesh squirms at the thought of pure sunlight. I glance at the window, blinds closed as tightly as they will go, yet some yellow rays still manage to squeeze through the cracks. My overlarge, red-rimmed eyes long to turn away from the warmth that peeks its way into my dark room, to stare at a glaring screen full of words, places, things, people who are not real. So I turn my head away from the warmth, to another brightness that is born from cold, radiating from a flat screen that changes but does not really change. My eyes follow words that might be in ink somewhere else in the world, but remain as tiny pixels floating in a deep, black vastness that I stare at now. A shriek of laughter floats in through some hidden fissure in the walls I have not yet managed to block. Idiot children, don't they know what to do with their lives? Don't they know that to become successful in this world, outside is no place to be?

Oh no. I've said it.

That word, that despicable word that speaks of a world where flesh crawls in a warmth that shouldn't exist, where children shriek, and where things go bump in the night.

Where I hear tall, soft grass sways in a gentle breeze. Where at night so many creatures, slender and agile, large and lumbering, all considered "beautiful", rest their glowing eyes upon you with only the moon as a way to light the path ahead. Where a certain music is created in the croaking of the toads and the twittering of the birds, the drumbeat of the earth and the steady drip, drop of water in a pond hidden in a marsh or a meadow somewhere, a whispering of the trees as they sway back and forth to an unsteady rhythm.

They say if you lie in the grass and close your eyes and listen hard enough, you can feel the earth moving around you in this great orchestra of life. They say when a lion roars, everything stops for a moment, just to listen. Even your heart. They say some trees are so tall, the tops of them are dancing among the clouds. They say you have never breathed until you have breathed without walls surrounding you, with the sun by your side.

They say the feeling of sunlight on your skin cannot be compared to anything, it is so glorious.

This world full of darkness and light, full of glory and evil, full of wonders and adventures.

Outside.

Disgusting.

[Lunariette]

How'd I do?

[Christa VG]

LOL I like it! No mistakes that I saw and the imagery is very real. Well done.

[Lunariette]

Well thank you very much! I wrote this really late at night so I'm sorry if it was kind of hastily wrapped up.

[Christa VG]

No not at all. IT really stuck int he mind and I think it is funny you wrote about not liking outside where in Spring everyone tends to write about how beautiful it is outside and wonderful pretty the flowers are and such. Not that there is anything wrong with that mind you, just that your break from the norm was interesting.

[Lunariette]

Well thanks! I just wanted to describe outside in a nice light, but not in the way most people would imagine it. I was going for a different perspective.