To think that when you deeply look at something, and admire every characterisctic, imagining it’d be real, you’d somehow make something out of it. The bird that layed on the windowsill danced and spun into the coffee shop, making my eyes grow even wider. He kept calling my name, trying to shift the attention back to him, but I couldn’t look at him at the moment. My fingers burned holding the hot coffee close, but that didn’t matter, my entire train of thought was escaping. The water rose higher and higher into the sky, filling up the room, drowning. That flower always seemed to be the one and only thing that shined. Giggles and laughter were managed but unheard. Children spun and played as they sang their songs. He asked my hand and I slowly took it, making myself dizzy. The films and movies spun faster and faster, repeating themselves. My body felt new. My vision cleared, and my smile widened. Aalya, to think that your dreams were real. The battles were on fastforward, making every movement and word exchanged forgotten. The waterfall pulled me closer and closer to the door, but I continued to scream his name. My heels pulled the tile off the floor, making me stand still. My dress was torn and my hair was in my face, making me fall to the ground. Pain suddenly pounded through me in my arm. The glass was in. If only life was cookie dough.