Every once in a long while
I find myself somewhere else
A place I call Elsewhere
It’s a not-to-long winding road
Under sepia skies
It doesn’t feel like home
But it doesn’t feel foreign either
And despite how long I’m away from it
It always remembers me

To my left is a path
It leads out the a beach
Soft sand slowly and slightly declining
To emerald water
With large wooden vessels
Drifting in the distance
To my right
Are a row of film posters
For productions too old
To be in any licensed cinema
As I walk alongside them
I can see a small building in the distance
And in a moment,
Through no transition,
I am inside

The walls are wooden
But it doesn’t feel cramped
Ahead of me is a counter
A girl with short dark hair
Stands behind it
As I enter
Whenever I enter
Her eyes shift to mine
And long for prolonged contact
But I shyly move past
Over to the soft drink dispenser

Here I find the girl with orange hair
Who pours me a drink
A ruby pink syrup
Cold and sweet
Almost overwhelming now
But reminding me of my younger tastes
When she smiles at me
I remember that not all tastes change
And we begin to chat

I never remember what we talk of
And I never remember leaving
But I find myself under the sepia sky again
And know that shortly I’ll be home
With all the turmoil that it involves

I look to the building
Through the window
I see two people who care for me
And we smile
Without me even once
Worrying about how I look to them

While I never combat my departure,
I don’t look away from those wooden walls
When I wake up
It always feels so real
And it makes me wonder
If I’ll ever truly have that overly sweet drink
With those overly genuine people
Under that warm sepia sky



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