The cherry trees in the field had no bark, but rather a smooth, pale skin that seemed to pulse. The flowers fell softly, leaving luminous trails in the air, and the ground was covered with broken clocks instead of leaves. As you walked you heard the noise of the clocks marking rush hour and intertwined between the branches of one of those cherry trees, you thought you saw a human silhouette with skin the same color as the pale trunk of the cherry trees

In the skies, birds with turtle bodies dominated the cotton candy clouds and the cherry red waters swelled with enormous bubbles where fish of colors impossible to describe seemed to float.