Oran Warner
August, 2023
Oran groaned, forcing himself to sit up. His head was swimming and his whole body ached. Squinting, he glanced around, trying to figure out what had happened.
Lavender sat up about five feet in front of him, groaning as she rubbed her eyes.
“Lavender,” he said tentatively. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she groaned. “W…what happened?”
“I’m not sure. I think-” His voice died in his throat as he took in his surroundings.
It was the world. Her world. A world of light, of color, of nature, or art. Though he’d only ever caught stolen glimpses, he knew this place – this sanctuary.
His mouth agape, Oran took in the world around him. His gaze followed the jagged cliffs, flat reflection, and gentle curves of the horizons surrounding. He watched the water stream off the tallest cliff, the water giggling and gurgling – when something on the cliff by the waterfall caught his eye.
He paused, examining the dark, gaping hole in the rock.
“What?” Lavender shifted, her eyes following his gaze. “What is it?”
“That hole,” Oran didn’t answer, steps toward the cave. “What’s in there?”
“A perfect spring day.” Lavender’s voice broke.
She hung her head, sobbing.
