The boy reached for the fallen petal that flowed by in the air. As the boys’ hand came closer, the petal slowed down its acceleration and found itself placed perfectly in the middle of his palm. It felt to him unreal how perfect it was of existence. A magnolia leaf so light and so little, yet so perfect. Around the magnolia tree its silver traced shadow swayed, while its white petals continued to shatter reluctantly down by the light breeze that filled the astonishing evening of spring. Out of sight, the place was unknown to many, and by those few who encountered it, the magnolia hill itself was cherished as sacred. Yet not a single soul, had shown any visits in hundreds of years. Simply nobody dared to visit the silence of the elements. Except for that boy. As he himself at that moment, looked up at the moonlit sky, arms under his head, a dwelling sense of passive imagination found its presence, as the chill breeze filled his ears and his blue hair. The boy closed his black chaos filled eyes and gave into the faint escape of reality and while dreaming, the eyes of the boy kaleidoscoped into the thousand colors that lit the dark of his past, present & future.