turning things around

I bike home from work on a snowy evening, uncomfortably wet and tired. I look up a my building—a massive apartment complex spanning an entire city block, reaching past 50 floors—and I’m overwhelmed. A single light dimly shines through the mist of the storm. The street is desolate. As I lock up my bike, a man in a trenchcoat and a dark fedora approaches me. I rush to secure my bike and hurriedly trudge through the mounds of snow to my building. As I walk through the doors, I’m transported to a completely different scene: a seaside village densely packed with vacationers. I approach an outdoor vendor who is hocking piles of fluffy puppies. I sit on the ground and feel them swarm around me, nibbling my fingers and licking my face. I wake up giggling, surrounded pillows and blankets in my cozy bed.


About sweetdreamscrazy

I'm a spectacular generalist. I sail, ski, take photos, adore animals, write (more than just nonsense), can ramble on and on about whisky, read comics, paint and sit around and do nothing. More will be added to this list. Including people. I'm slowly overcoming my fear behind the lens.
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