There's a crack in the ground, spanning the width of your pinky in some areas, and in others, it's more than three feet wide. When you look down into it, it's only darkness, going down, down, down. But when you look during the night, with only the moon to guide you and the stars to chart your path and the fireflies to keep you company, there's a city.
Here are red paper lanterns lining the streets, and some are being carried by the townsfolk. The houses are made of wooden boards, with old Japanese roofs that point like hats at the top. There's a plaza, a large square, lined with shops and vendors and bustling people. At the center is a tree, covered in cherry blossoms.
It's miles underground, far away, but so bright. You wonder how you missed it in the day.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Dreams
PoetryA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
