A Matter of Perception

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“A Matter of Perception” By: Sonja P.

In my imagination, I had seen places like this, yet as I walked around the dimly lit chamber there was a sense of uneasiness. I could faintly hear the rustling of leaves and the songs of crows high above me, but as looked up, there appeared to be only a dim glow resonating these unsettling sounds.

I dared not to speak, as if in fear of waking someone. Wake who? I was not sure, but the impending feeling of being blissfully watched pulled at my core. It was as if I was in a living dream, someplace wonderful, magical and fantastical, but still, in no way have I pictured this place as it lay before me.

The darkness seemed to creep over the stone tiles, only allowing the dim light from above trickle through the gaping holes overhead. You could faintly hear water dripping, trickling down the aged walls and running through my fingertips.

The water smelt fresh as if it was a spring from a nearby lake, but as I tasted the water on my fingertips, it tasted nothing but salt.

Strange. I thought to myself.

I looked around once again, struggling to reimagine what it had always looked like in my mind.

Making a complete circle, nothing seemed to be different. The stone floor was moist and moss padded my bare feet from the icy floor, the walls though seemingly tall and confining, held an odd placement of comfort, and light above trickled, as if light could have been a liquid and was seeping through nature’s core. But something was off.

I reanalyzed all of the overlays and turned around to the dripping water.

The water. I thought.

But as I turned to face the water, there was a tug on my waist, and before I could understand what was going on, I was lifted up, up and up. Passing through the holes and large gapes in the mossy and water sputtered walls.

Following the dappling light, higher and higher I flew until I rose from the broken grounds and into the silver moonlight, gracefully touching my feet on the sweet-smelling grasses.

And as I looked down, I came to recognize my home, with its flowing waterfalls and mossy rocks.

And as I looked down, I came to recognize my home, for it was merely only a matter of perception.

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