Escape

Sometimes when the pressures of city life and the mounting deadlines get to be too much for me, I imagine myself in a place far, far way, where there are no highways, no parking lots, no traffic lights, and no phones. In that place I can read and write to my heart’s content, by candlelight, on paper, using an actual pen that takes ink from a bottle, wake up at dawn, eat fruit every day, and take long walks along creeks and byways and vast fields of flowers. I imagine taking naps under huge trees with canopies that cover acres and acres of grassland, gathering flowers in huge baskets to decorate my home with, drinking water straight from waterfalls, watching butterflies rise from bushes, running across green pastures, diving into lakes, living with the sunrise.


And then I wake up, look out my window, and realize that I am still in the city where I have been living for almost ten years, but that where I am at the moment is still the best place to be. Because it's real.


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