The “caves” stretch for miles. The walls are alive, and they’re moving, but not at all in a gross way; really, it’s like they’re dancing.
Somehow visibility is perfectly fine despite the lack of daylight. It isn’t even a little bit damp- the air is warm and dry, practically buzzing with a strange friendliness. You swear you can hear a harp somewhere. You don’t know how you got here, but you certainly don’t want to leave.
How can there be no people here if you feel so loved?
You keep walking. The ground is soft. A flowery smell reaches your nose. Everything is tinted a gentle shade of pink.
You’re so sleepy yet entirely awake. The very atmosphere is cradling you as you shuffle along.
Inspired by The Daily Post’s Underground