Imagined Memories

The door was open. The sign suggested that it shouldn’t have been, but it was. I always found flights of stairs intriguing and adventurous. I know they say curiosity kills the cat, but I think the cat should be fine as long as it knows karate.

The stairs led to a 2nd floor of business offices overlooking a boring city street. Hardly exciting.

But then, there it was: an empty balcony rooftop- large enough to be a cafe or dance floor. That’s when my imagination burst with colors and light, creating a beautiful rooftop ballroom that could put any Taylor Swift music video to shame.

It was as if night had fallen and I was surrounded by Shakespearean costumes, French perfume, and wine-influenced laughter. It was the setting for passionate and poetic romance; a fairytale setting that modern youth could never experience outside of a dream-or Netflix.

The 21st century hit my senses, and the balcony was empty again. Alas-if only modern times could give us the same memories that our imaginations can only conjure.

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