The soft dirt crumbles beneath my feet as I walk to the spot that suits me best. I take a seat and the wet grass folds itself around my fingers. A crow caws before being shooed away by an angry child. The sun claws at my eyes like a cat to a scratching post, and I move my hand to block the light. The wind whistles through my ears as it tickles my face playfully, and I feel the cold air running through my nose freezing at the edges of my nostrils. I lay back, completely surrounded by an army of green men, grasping at my jacket, leaving their wet handprints across my body. As I take in a deep breath my mind slows to match the rhythmic waving of the trees, and I can feel my eyes closing their curtains. My sight fades slowly as I drift into sleep.