At the precipice of reality and fantasy, there sits a little garden. A fantastic, beautiful garden that welcomes all the birds and the bees and the butterflies and the fairies and the little woodland nymphs that roam our world and the one beyond. On either end of the garden, there is a door. The one that connects to our world is an arch made of twisting ivy and wallflowers that have woven themselves into a magnificent doorway with hinges and handles. On the handle rests a small little lock, a lock with no key. The door that connects to their world is a portal of pure magic, a waterfall of sparkles made from the clearest of light and colors that the human mind cannot fathom. A door that needs no lock, for only gentle souls can pass through it. The few unlucky folks that have had the pleasure of seeing the garden leave it with despair, for they know they can never feast their eyes on anything so glorious ever again.
There are tiger lilies that roar, blue bells that chime, and a weeping willow who drowns herself in sorrow. There is a pond that glistens with rainbows, home to tiny turtles and mermaids and jellyfish who splash and play with one another. A bridge of crystals, shining in the neverending sun, positioned so one may see the pond under their feet as they cross it. The air is forever sweet, crisp, with the most delightful breeze that tickles through one’s hair. Next to all the flowerbeds and the trees grows the softest moss, inviting all lifeforms to sleep soundly in the sun or in the shade. In this garden, there is no hatred, no misery, only harmony. The bees buzz around in circles and the birds sing songs to each other. The fairies flit about the flowers, chasing each other with delightful giggles. The woodland nymphs burrow into the trees, building the most beautiful nests, not just for themselves, but for the birds and the fairies as well.
Very few from our world have ever been able to find the garden, all for the best, no doubt. For if the unworthy catch wind of something so sublime, it would lose all that makes it special. Perhaps you can be the next person to find that exquisite garden, right on the precipice of fantasy and reality. If you do though, I must warn you, you might never feel happiness again.
Here’s a secret, for those that have read this far. You see, earlier, I lied. There is a key to the door after all, and it is in my possession. Now hush, as I hand it to you discretely. Use it with caution, should you choose to use it at all. Will you live your life blissfully unaware of what you are missing, or will you experience the most wonderful thing in the world, only to yearn for it for the rest of your existence? The choice is all yours.
So, what will it be?
Roobootics: The Blog 