Paradise

He leaned on a balcony.

Wind lifted black from his forehead, brushing the silver circlet there, embedded with emeralds said to match his eyes.

A party was in full force behind him, women dripping jewels and fine silk, men in silk to match the ladies and weapons to match their personalities, highlighted by white tile flooring and gold-threaded marble pillars. Red wine in glass goblets and and green grapes on delicate china.

But he didn't care for any of the gilded cause, how could he, when he stood in front of a paradise?

Paradise, a beautiful, strange, undefined word.

But he'd found the meaning of it.

HIs meaning stretched out in front of him, a soft green meadow, tall grass lit silver by the light of a full moon, the wind waving it lazily onto the spiraled railing he leaned against.

Green cloak to match the grass, shined black boots to match the formalities, and a white lace cravat tied around his throat, so tight it felt choking.

Grass waved in the meadow, rustling softly against itself.

He reached a hand out.

His long, calloused fingers touched grass, but it wasn't the grass he was focused on.

It was the white-spotted, red deer that flicked its ears at him, lifting tiny, delicately thin legs to approach him, flowering vines swinging from its large antlers white tail flicking.

Its black nose reached to touch his fingers, and for a minute, everything was frozen.

The smile on his face, the twinkle of his emerald eyes, the bronzed skin on the back of his hand as he reached to touch the nose of the red deer.

Two worlds, gild and grass, separated by the spiraled stone railing.

Paradise.