Just Me ?Practicing?

And he lay there.. An aura of sweetly serene scented bliss swirling like the feeling a person gets when the door to a room is finally opened after days, when you drink cold apple juice on a hot day, when you shove yourself into a cocoon of fluffy and warm blankets, the smell left after it rains.. Aloof peace and comfort, oh has it finally come.

The boy inhaled, his chest puffing up so much that it hurt, and when he exhaled he finally felt free. Hours and hours he had spent, and finally, finally at rest he was.

His bucket of apples lay next to him, shiny and likely very sticky. But they were his just as his home was, and his family, and this moment.

He looked off at the emptiness of ground only some distance from him, pinkly tinted leaves floated at the tug of gravity until laying at constant rest atop green grass covered in dew that spanned for miles upon miles. If he had wings, he swore they would be laying limp beside him.

Eventually, his friends joined him on the activity of ruining the development of their spines and staring at the sky, and even though the blight of the sun blinded them and it was either a tad too hot or breezy for their tastes, it was perfect. It was perfect because that was as close to perfect as they could get, and therefore they would take as much of it as was possible.