Pip

8

The garden shimmered, a kaleidoscope of colors. Soft hues, like cotton candy melting on a summer breeze, painted the air. Geometric shapes, impossibly perfect, danced in the two-tone light. A tiny cloud creature, fluffier than spun sugar, drifted amongst the abstract gradients. You, mesmerized, reached out a tentative finger. The cloud creature tilted its head, eyes like shimmering amethysts. A soft, melodic chirp escaped its lips.