Summit House-WCS

If a sunflower were a human I would picture it as a little boy between the ages of four and nine. The little sunflower boy would wear green shorts with a bright yellow long sleeve and a little sunflower for a hat.

The faint hums of the creatures inhabiting this peculiar land competed with the splotchy sounds of their boot dragging across the dampened forest floor. Only the soft glow of undiscovered plants illuminate the path in front of them.

The blue sun is setting over the low mountains, its pale dusky glow barely lighting up the thick forest. My feet feel heavier as more dew collects onto my worn leather boots, but they’ve carried me so far I won’t lose my trust in them.

It's the year 3017, I'm on a mission in my obnoxious bright, sparkly, amazing, show stopping pink rocket ship. I think everything is going smoothly while I’m cruising along in space, but how everything changes.

I swim around and around and around. Never knowing where I’m going and quite sure where I have been. Life as a goldfish is dull and humdrum, I would never recommend it.

 As I tread through the water, I don't know how long I've been at this.