Weiyoca

After a restless night’s sleep you wake up in a maze. A labryth garden of everlasting sun showers. Rain rattles the cobblestone like clay plates, The air is light and smells of wilted insects and blooming soil. Your pillow has transformed into a plush friend, inside an umbrella and basic supplies - - water bottle, tarp, compass, twine and pouches of fruit gummies Slipped between realms of here, then now and what never was. The garden will recede when faced with regrets. The ear shaped protusion on the shell holds a recording device. Think of as the black box on airplane. Is it easier to speak without eyes?