a sigh of relief
September 30, 2010
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The smoke is thick. The air is hot even though night has fallen. If you try to breath too deep, you end up choking. Your face and all of the other people around you are covered in a thick layer of soot. In fact, the buildings and the side walk beneath your feet are nearly the same color as your crusty, dry, and oiled hands.
Suddenly, a temporal rift opens up above your head and engulfs you. You are so frightened that you cannot move from where you were standing near the oil slags that you were digging through.
The rift clears up and you can now look around you. The air smells sweet and fragrant. The oil slag you were standing near is gone, and instead you see a field of goldenrod, milkweed covered in butterflies, goldfinches bright and yellow bouncing around blazingly purple iron weeds. You step forward and accidentally spook a ground hog. Suddenly, you realize where you are. You are in the same spot that you were standing in before the rift engulfed you. You did not budge at all. Yet time has passed, and a puzzled bicyclist passes you by on what was once a rail road. You cannot help but smile as you breath a clean and fresh sigh of relief.