When we reached the land where others couldn't sleep, we found ourselves awfully tired. 'Not yet', the gathering crowd screeched at us as we reclined pastorally.
So we left. Except we hadn't anticipated this change and were low on provisions. Stopping at the grocer we purchased many dark loaves and a large pot of butter. As we made our way out of town you donned a heavy shawl and I almost didn't recognize you. Assuming you were a marauder, I held my musket to your cheek. You made some mean-spirited reply and I lowered my weapon in fear and deference.
Hiking into the foothills our bare feet shone bright blue from the cold. We hollowed out our loaves and formed the soft insides into dense globes. These you hung from your hair saying, 'I'm a massive cosmic body.'
'Mmm', I questioned, having not heard you clearly.
'I exert forces on other lesser bodies', you said much louder.
I knew this was true and nodded in reply, finishing the small soft planets that weren't attached to you. Shortly thereafter we fit the empty crusts onto each other's feet. I felt like a beautiful and benevolent dictator being fitted by some demure and undistinguished cobbler. I'm sure you felt the same.
Moving up in elevation we encountered every variety of weather happening all at once. We were in quite a condition after it all condensed into a single massive snowflake, each arm a hundred feet long and perfectly articulated in its crystalline form. It blew in all directions before coming to a serene horizontal standstill above a dense copse just ahead. As we moved towards it it sank slowly and disappeared in the upper canopy.
Though this seemed quite ominous we were late for an appointment with the clockmaker and continued on our journey. Reaching his workshop we found a note indicating that the municipal government had seized this building and all adjoining property to construct a more conceivable mountain top. The summit's shape was all wrong, we read later in some heavily annotated periodical, and was nearly impossible to capture in oil paintings.
Another unexpected turn. Additionally, we had converted our larder into practicable footwear and, as a result, hadn't eaten in several hours. In that state there was no possibility of lovemaking and we both sat silently listening to birdsong, you on one boulder and me on another, facing away from each other towards some distant inconceivable vista.
'Well, shucks', was all I could think to say. After a while I looked over and you were licking the last of the butter from the ceramic pot. Shimmering from the greasy tallow you smiled at me wild eyed and I couldn't help smiling in return.