The sun has a strange way of distorting time. It slows down the minutes into lazy warm swirls. Lazy. Warm. Swirls. Time then becomes a loop of dilly dallying seconds and unhurried hours. Lethargy assumes transcendental dimensions. I polish off a dollop of golden warmth greedily. A little girl skips in circles near the yellow flowers. Cotton clothes flutter in the lulling breeze. A worn out bench creaks in the shade. The grass sighs under me as I turn, burying my face into it. A memory fights to pierce my blissful blankness. An errant cloud passes over. The sun outshines itself, caressing me into pleasant slumber.
|Bliss was invented on a sunny day with puppies.|