Have you ever woken up on another planet?

No, not the kind of trip you take with psychedelics. I mean literally opening your eyes one morning and realizing you’re no longer in your own bed, or even your own solar system.

It’s impossible to explain without sounding insane, but I’ll try.

It was an ordinary Sunday when I opened my eyes and knew, instantly, that nothing was ordinary anymore. I was in a desert, though not any desert you’d recognize on Earth. The sand was purple. Three moons hovered in the sky, casting shifting shadows across the dunes. And somewhere in the distance, I heard the roar of a crowd.

They weren’t people. Not even close. They looked like colossal insects, wings shimmering in alien light. They didn’t walk me through their world, they carried me, buzzing high above crystalline ridges and forests of stone.

I wanted to stay there forever. But their leader, Ozol the Great, warned me that paradise isn’t given freely. If I ever wished to return, I would have to follow precise instructions. He told me what they were, but I cannot share them. These beings mistrust humanity. They will not open their realm to everyone. Only to a chosen few.

So, if you want to know the way, you must first earn my trust. And once you learn, you must never reveal it.

Because the truth is this: the Garden of Eden is real. We were cast out long ago, but exile doesn’t erase a place.

It still exists, hidden across the stars.

That’s all I can say, for now.

Be well. And be gentle with one another.

The End