Before you start reading this, I want you to be comfortable. I want you to imagine that you are in the most beautiful place on earth, the most temperate climate, surrounded by the people you love best, while at the same time reveling in your own peculiar simultaneous solitude.

See, stories are supposed to transport you someplace wonderful, beyond imagination, but I thought it would just be easier if we started out in a different place and went from there. Now normally I'm an honest person. I have integrity, and morals, and ethics, and the other things that are supposed to be instilled in children, as if we are computers to be loaded with basic software, and without these key programs we're useless.

Anyway, I thought I'd try cheating this one time and see how far it got me.

So we're someplace wonderful. The air is singing, birds are perfumed by every sort of non-allergic scent available, all is right with the world. You are sitting in the most unbelievably beautiful chair, its design is streamlined and ornate, a work of art by a master architect. It is also specifically designed to transfer all the weight of your body into the sturdy ground. To sit in this chair is to feel as if you are floating.

It's also studded with jewels. Precious jewels that while being bright beyond belief and possessing a carat weight in the triple digits are as soft and forgiving as cotton candy without any of the awkward stickiness.

You are reading this by sunlight so bright and pure you wonder why they named that dinky, dull metal gold. An orange is orange in every sense of the word and roses not only define their color, they smell like what you must believe the pinkest pf pinks would smell like. The shiny bands displayed in jewelry windows have nothing on this sunlight that streams down so thick and sweet, you immediately want to pour it on a stack of pancakes.

Don't worry. They immediately appear. I'll even forgive you if you sticky up my precious pages with sun-syrup. I keep telling you I want you to like this story. Why do you think I'm going to all this trouble otherwise? Here, here is wine that will lift you above yourself and make you a better person, without any messy intoxication or addiction.

So where was I? We've got a chair, a light source, sustenance, refreshment, companionship, and solitude.

How about music? Each of the hundreds of birds in the shade trees has musical genius to rival Mozart, and the uncontrollable urge to harmonize its fellow feathered composers.

Also, don't worry about reading glasses. The air here is curative. Not only do you have perfect vision, you feel healthier and look prettier.

Ok, got the chair, don't need the reading glasses, we will have fulfilled all your wildest dreams while you read the story.

I guess all we need now is the story.

Hope you liked it.

(AuthorNote: Well, this is my re-debut at fictionpress, after being absent for…oh dear, I'm afraid it is years now. I hope to have more stuff up soon. I'm trying to wean myself of fanfic, and write something decent enough to get me into the summer program I (desperately) hope to attend.)