Amber light poured gently through the vast glass walls, coating everything in a honeyed glow, turning the world into an everlasting painting of tranquility and warmth.
Lucy gently clasped my hand; her touch was soft and warm, like the lazy sunlight of an early spring afternoon. We walked slowly along the transparent wall, towards a giant amber sun suspended immobile in the sky, forever hovering just above the horizon, fixed within a tapestry of crimson and gold.
Pushing open a door inlaid with delicate golden patterns, we fell instantly into a vortex of delight.
It was an endless celebration. Glasses clinked in mid-air, their gentle ringing like distant wind chimes. Dresses fluttered gently under neon lights, flowing and swirling like ripples across a serene lake. People embraced and kissed, laughing freely; someone fell from a countertop with laughter, caught gently by an even greater wave of cheers and applause. Everything was indulgent and sweet, like drowning slowly in flowing honey, making one forget oneself entirely.
Lucy guided me effortlessly through the throng, her soft hair brushing gently against my cheek, leaving behind a comforting warmth.
Another door opened quietly, and we stepped into another world entirely.
Bright lights illuminated a central sand-covered arena, spotlighting two young, athletic men locked in a graceful yet fierce struggle. Their toned muscles glistened attractively with sweat, each powerful movement highlighting a raw beauty and vitality. The audience watched intently, their eyes ablaze with fascination and excitement. Every forceful collision of bodies elicited deep sighs of admiration—this wasn't violence, but a passionate dance celebrating primal strength.
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I caught my breath, feeling my heartbeat quicken. Lucy remained calm and poised, leading me gently forward as if every scene were utterly normal.
Finally, we entered a pristine and elegant exhibition hall.
The interior was bright and immaculate, as silent as moonlight. Tall glass display cases lined the hall, showcasing delicate porcelain, intricate sculptures, and exquisite tapestries, each item seemingly frozen in time and memory. Yet curiously, visitors casually handled these precious objects, carelessly tossing them aside. A delicate sculpture shattered into shards against the polished floor, creating an unsettling yet oddly beautiful sound.
Strangely, nobody reacted. Visitors continued chatting quietly, admiring other pieces as if nothing had occurred. Guards stood immobile, their vacant eyes indifferent to everything around them.
An unsettling sense of dread crept over me. Quickly, I pulled out my phone to check the time. The screen lit, but the upper left corner—where the time should have been displayed—was starkly empty, as though nothing had ever existed there, a blank space pure and absolute.
I turned to Lucy, my voice trembling slightly, “Lucy...why is there no time here? Why can they destroy the exhibits freely without being stopped?”
Lucy raised her head slowly, gazing at me with tender sorrow. Her fingers gently brushed against my cheek as she whispered softly:
“It’s alright. Even if you’ve overlapped, it’s fine. You can come again next time.”
The air suddenly stilled. Two guards in black uniforms silently approached, their touch gentle yet irresistibly firm as they guided me away. I tried to resist, but my strength drained like water absorbed into sand, slipping slowly into confusion and fear.
Glancing back one last time, I saw Lucy standing quietly beneath the eternal sunset, a faint, enigmatic smile upon her lips—as though the whole world were merely a fleeting dream lingering at her fingertips.
