Today was one of those simple-pleasure days. You know the kind, where you’re happy, but you don’t know why. Where the sky is that bright, vivid, indescribable blue kindergartners always try to duplicate in their pictures they’ll take home to Mom because they know that THAT color is the real deal, but that no crayon can duplicate, not even sky blue, those Crayola fakers. And then there’s the sun, glowing so hot that you can’t look anywhere near it. It’s no longer a yellow circle, but a white aura of happy, and it beaming down on you just fills you with so much of that same happy that you can’t wipe the smile off your face and you feel so ridiculous because you really have no reason to smile, but at the same time you do—it’s all around you. And because you’re so happy, you can’t even read or sing, all you can do is smile and collapse in a heap of happy on the grass, the green prickly velvet, eyes closed, reflecting the joyous sunshine back at the real-sky-blue sky.
(P.S. This is the first paragraph of a little blurb I just put out there for Workshoping Wednesday in John Bennion's class tomorrow. I didn't have anything, so I wrote this, plus another pager and some. Just fyi. :D )