Go for a stroll in the park

It's a nice day. The sun is shining, the weather is warm, and there are birds chirping in the trees. It seems like a great time to go for a walk in one of the downtown area's nearby parks. You aren't that far from Zanotto Park, a little slice of urban greenspace that you have always liked, so you set out in that direction.

A few minutes later you have reached the part itself, a big square of grass, trees and flowers neatly nestled within a fence of offices, shops, and trendy downtown lofts. There are a number of people in the park today, which isn't a surprise for the middle of the afternoon on a fairly pleasant Saturday. You see couples of varying ages out for a romantic stroll, children playing here and there, and people walking their dogs. An old man sits on a park bench nearby, reading the newspaper.

You walk around the park for a little while, with no particular destination in mind. You ruminate on the last few days' events as you take in the man-made nature around you. A gentle breeze blows through the nearby trees and your mind wanders with it, the faint rustling of green leaves almost calling to you. Your thoughts turn back to your recurring dream again. You aren't sure why you keep having this dream, or why it has started to fill your waking thoughts as well. That mysterious, unobtainable white city, for all its mythical beauty, is just a dream, after all. Still, as you daydream, you find yourself again contemplating that far-away realm between consciousnesses.

You are not sure how long you have been walking around when a voice calls out, snapping you back to reality.

"Hey!" a man's voice yells. "Little help over here?"

You look down at your feet and see a beat-up, foam football. It looks like you had drifted to an open section of the park where a group of college-aged guys are throwing around a football, or rather were trying to until a wayward toss sent the ball in your direction.

"Oh, sorry," you stammer as you awaken yourself from your waking reverie.

You aren't sure if you were loud enough for the man to hear you, but just the same you grab the ball and throw it back to him. He calls out a thank-you and runs off. You realize by now that you are actually a good distance from the entrance to the park. It's been a decent afternoon here in Zanotto Park - your stroll might have been just what you needed today. However, you think to yourself that it might be worth heading back. You about-face and start walking back across the park.

A smell of delicious, greasy meat wafts toward you, and without even consciously thinking about it you find yourself drifting toward a nearby hot dog cart. A short, middle-aged man stands behind the cart, just finishing up with a customer. Your stomach growls. A fresh hot dog might really hit the spot about now.