When I was around seven, my dad decided to re-landscape my front yard. He dumped piles of clay and dirt in sequent mounds just by the swing set. I was convinced if I launched myself off the swings and ran across the mounds I’d be transported to another dimension. Never happened, but sometimes, if I ran fast enough and swung high enough, I’d forget the immediate reality I was in. I wish I could still swing without getting motion sickness. Maybe I just needed a little more velocity. Traveling between dimensions is hard.
xoxo Tessa Rose ❤