Blue skies dotted with birds glow overhead, the light radiates alongside it, its rays of warmth stinging her silver eyes, squinting she endures reminding herself that beauty is not to be missed.

  Smiling, she sits up and leans back on her hands to reorient her vision. Her light-peach-colored hair was falling over her shoulder.

  A massive yet small palace looms over the horizon, the spire dividing the sky in two and stonework resembling the trunk of a dead tree. Countless homes and buildings surround the castle-like ants at a picnic, the structures blending to form a complex blend of color and life.

  People roam the cobblestone streets below, their mundane lives resembling cogs in a machine.

  Taking a long, slow inhale, the girl stands up quickly and stretches like a cat, reaching into the air and releasing her tensed breath. Her first steps are wobbly, and she faints for the blink of an eye before finally regaining composure.

  Green hills lay in front of her as she walks towards the bustling city. The walk is slow but deliberate.

  To fill the silence, she begins humming an old nursery rhyme, calming and upbeat. The tune carries her over to the city wall where two guards stand holding intimidating steel spears.

  They nod her way as she passes, continuing to hum. Entering the city, sounds of crowding people and everyday life flow into her ears, the melodic chime of white noise making it hard to discern a single voice. It's slightly uncomfortable at first, but she becomes quickly accustomed to it and soon hardly notices.

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  Her steps have become louder as they hit the cobblestone street. She could hear and feel the clang of her new boots clicking against the rock in each stride. Humming the rhyme, she goes about her day, setting a destination in her mind and altering her path to reach it. Turning right then left, getting lost for a heartbeat, then another right, and so on.

  A few moments pass, and she stands outside a tall regal-looking building with a beautiful title written across its banner.

  Walking up the steps, she opens the doors and goes through. Inside she first sees a desk where an older woman sits typing at a computer. The carpeted floor muffles her steps in contrast to the stones outside. Pulling out an ID, the girl shows the woman, who nods and continues typing away.

  Striding past, the girl glances momentarily at the ID, reading her name before hiding it in her pocket once again.

  Aislene. The name crosses her mind for only a moment before she busies herself with other thoughts.

  Rows and rows of books lined on shelves await Aislene, she could never read all of them, but the idea of enlisting every story into her mental archive felt euphoric.

  Moments later, she's organizing them one by one, the few people who usually come into the library often misplace or jumble up the books' order. So as the librarian's assistant, it was her job to reorganize them. Time passes without notice, and before she realizes it, the librarian comes to inform her that it's time to leave.

  Smiling, Aislene gathers herself up and goes with the older woman, locking the door on the way out. Night has fallen, and she felt nothing exciting happened, too bad, she thinks.

  Walking home, the nightlife was almost as busy as it was at noon. People were still bustling around trying to get in the last of their work before admitting the day's end. Lights from shop windows were visible from the sidewalk, illuminating the path ahead and numerous lamps overshadowing the road.

  Her smile still up, Aislene goes home, where she finds herself alone.

  Fixing dinner, she eats and bathes before going to bed. She lays awake for a considerable amount of time, reminiscing about her life. Thinking of ways to do something possibly different, she settles to make a pie the next day.

  Happy with that final thought, she drifts off into sleep.