You wake up one day, face-flat, in someone's backyard. The thick smell of freshly cut grass clumps as viciously to your nostrils as the green clippings you find stuck to skin and clothing. Wildlife chirps and trills from large stocks of leaf and bark to your far left. Colorful boxes and long strips of grey with smaller boxes running along them come blearily into view when looking up and to the right. After several seconds of hard staring, your eyes eventually decide to cooperate with your brain to tell you that what you're looking at is a few houses, roads, and the cars that ride them. The sun is screaming that its morning and for an unidentifiable reason, your teeth hurt.
Finding yourself somewhere new can certainly be alarming despite its cool breeze and warm light, yet, I must guess to say, it's hardly as alarming as the man you find staring at you from across the greenery. He wears casual clothing below a well-trimmed beard. His startled expression and willingness to run away put you at ease before you discover the thing floating just above his head. Is that a halo?
Finding yourself somewhere new can certainly be alarming despite its cool breeze and warm light, yet, I must guess to say, it's hardly as alarming as the man you find staring at you from across the greenery. He wears casual clothing below a well-trimmed beard. His startled expression and willingness to run away put you at ease before you discover the thing floating just above his head. Is that a halo?