The area was certainly breathtaking. The grass was soft, slightly damp from morning dew. Patches of moss clung to the ground. Three ants carried little pieces of bread from your sandwich.

Suddenly, it snaps. Or, you realize the imperfections, finally. The gentle river was flowing backwards. You look down to see your hands discolored and horrid-looking.

You realize… this is a dream.

“Finally, you figured it out,” a voice said from behind you. Light, yet condescending.