I’d walked for an hour, exhilarated but with parched throat, when I saw a tall fruit tree with low-hanging limbs. It was heavy with a dark blue fruit the size of a large orange, though shaped more like a lemon. I clutched one still on the tree and pushed my finger in, working it back and forth. Suddenly a blue juice sprayed my forehead. I laughed and peeled it back, then caught some dripping juice on my index finger. I touched it to my tongue. It had a strong citrus taste but with the flavor of blackberry, only better.

I took a small bite and savored an acidy but sweet tang that awakened my taste buds and made them long for more. Before I knew it, my shirt was wet and stained, and I’d eaten four of them. I stuffed another half-dozen into my backpack. The fruit had been both food and drink, and if the red sun had produced nothing else, I felt grateful for this treat.

I walked farther, seeing familiar flowers—lilies, daisies, lilacs, wild roses—interspersed with the utterly unfamiliar, including delicate bright orange flowers with fragile bells, yellow on the inside, blowing in the wind and making a haunting song. Their different sizes and shapes created different tones, with otherworldly melodies and harmonies.

What is this magnificent place?

A sound erupted from somewhere nearby—what was it? I instinctively jerked my head like a sparrow, looking all around. Laughter! Not a lonely chuckle, but the contagious, unrestrained laughter of a childhood Christmas. But I couldn’t see anyone—where was it coming from?

Now I heard myself laughing. I felt almost euphoric, something I’d not experienced since—since I was a boy? I felt intoxicated, overcome by pleasures beyond me yet somehow in me. I breathed deeply the fragrance of wild fruits and flowers I could not see. I could even taste something—as if I’d taken a hungry bite of firm, moist fruit, as if the blue citrus had whetted my appetite for something beyond it.

Suddenly the wind changed, and the stench of burning garbage assaulted me. I winced. In the wind I caught lonely cries, desperate wails. I put my hands over my ears. My tongue tasted sulfur, like the breath of the flying beast.

Then, just as suddenly, I tasted sweet citrus again and smelled flowers. The laughter erupted, and I heard music that grabbed me inside, fueling desire and imagination, bringing me to the verge of singing, though I couldn’t find the words.

Then it was all swept away in an instant by the stench, the haunting wails, and the sickening sulfur. My stomach heaved. I jerked my head violently.

Then it was gone. All of it.