Candy Floss Clouds
I collapsed on the glistening grass gorge, exhausted from cartwheeling immaturely up the bank beside my manor. In a bundle of ridiculous giggles, I managed to roll over onto my front and catch my fading breath. Hallucinations of colour and vibrancy slipped through my fingers as I reached out for a perfect little buttercup, sprouting in the midst of wafts of fresh cut grass. Eventually, the delicate posy fell loose in my palm and I held it up to the sky as I rolled again, this time onto my aching bare back. Against the blue sea of nothingness, my golden petaled soul seemed out of place, but strangely it was welcomed in the surreal surroundings. I held it before my eyes until the sun scalded my pupils, then scrambed over the splintering fence and ran like my Irish Draught and galloped between the individual blades of grass so the butterflies lept with me, and fluttered, gently, gracefully to safety.