The world is so beautiful. It's like a work of art. 

The sky is deep and it is painted in dipping and waving stripes of every shade of blue imaginable. The sky is constantly changing and across it soar fluffy white clouds in many swirling and curving shades of white. There are colourful birds flying every which way. There are colourful insects bussing around us. It all softly shimmers. 

The ground is also breathtaking, with large, thick blades of grass of so many different shades of green all curling up from the dirt. The grass curls and weaves into each other and blows in the wind. There are infinite colours of wildflowers with sparkling petals growing in everywhich direction. 

Trees tower all around us, with trunks of shimmering bronze and leaves of purple and pink and orange. The trees are filled with gems in the shape of apples. All along them run squirrels and chipmunks and monkeys. 

The world smells like thousands of rich, fragrant flowers of different types, all mingling together. Underneath that smell is the smell of freshly cut grass. And underneath that smell is the smell of something bright and spicy, something I can't quite place. 

The bright music of different bird calls all weave together to form a background melody. Though I don't think these are the calls of real birds. They sound too perfect, too harmonious, too well-matched with the other calls. They sound almost-real. Definitely. But they definitely don't sound real. 

The grass doesn't look real, the sky doesn't look real, the flowers don't look real, the clouds don't look real, the animals don't look real. 

A deep feeling of dread courses through me and I feel a scream rising up in my throat. 

Just then a voice comes up from all around, light and soft and melodic. I get lost in the unearthly richness of its chime. I forget all about my fear. I forget all about the wrongness all around me. I forget everything except this bright, shining beauty. 

"It's time to gather the gem-fruits so that we can make our delicious gem-fruit pie! Go into the cottage and gather the fruits basket and the bow and arrows!" 

I turn around, looking for the cottage. And it's right there behind me. And it's so unbelievably beautiful! With notched beams made of all types of brown colours all melting into each other and contrasting. The cottage walls are carved with all sorts of patterns. And the whole thing softly glows. The roof and the windows are shingled with different shades of red, are softly shimmering. And the door is bright red with a shining gold handle and a shining gold door knocker. There are birds carved onto its front. 

Clara and I both go into this cottage. I guess she heard the same voice I did. 

"Are you looking for the basket and the bow?" I ask her.

"Uh-huh. I sure am!" she replies brightly "We should look together." 

And so we swing open the door. 

The inside of the cottage is filled with so many things, hanging on the walls or arranged on the many many shelves or arranged on the floor. It's even prettier inside than it is on the outside. Every piece of wood inside is carved with a different, beautiful pattern and there are large windows with colour-changing curtains of every shade of yellow and gold mixed together. The couches are bright and embroidered with shimmering, rainbow thread. There are paintings on the wall that almost look like windows into other worlds. And there is just so much to look at everywhere. 

We walk through the many rooms trying to find what we need. The cottage impresses itself onto us. And it impresses us. We talk about how lovely everything is. 

Finally we find the basket, a large thing made of woven strips of orange, strips of different shades. It shimmers and glows and when I pick it up it casts an orange glow onto my body. The basket is large, almost as deep as my legs are tall and hard to get my arms fully around. Thankfully it has handles. The bow we find next. It is a shining gold, with silver arrows tipped with deep blue sapphire and fletched with dark blue feathers that shine like sapphire. It is light and slopong and elegant, curving softly like painted lips. 

We go outside, and get to work gathering the gem-fruits. First Clara takes aim at the fruits with the bow and arrow and I run around under the trees trying to catch any apples she manages to hit and send dropping down. Then I take a turn aiming for the fruits and Clara takes a turn catching them. Soon our basket is full. 

"Good job, girls!" The voice rings out. "Now it's time to catch the rain! Go find the rain barrels. Only catch blue and silver drops. Black and purple drops are poisoned, and they will spoil your whole barrel!"

We go inside the cottage again and look for the rain barrels. They are made of light blue crystal and are softly see-through. We go outside and instead of different shades of waving and weaving and rising and falling blue, the sky is made of different strips of silver-white-gray. 

The rain starts falling, big, thick drops spaced fairly far apart, nothing like real rain of any sort. We run around madly, trying to catch the right drops and avoid the right drops. It's all so very fun. 

After we have our barrels filled with good, pure water it's time to go into the forest. We follow the directions the voice gives us and find ourselves in a world of crowded colours and twisting, bending, spiralling branches and little animals running every which way. The ground is a deep, glowing red and there are strange leaves all around us. Leaves with edges that are traced darker than their middles. Leaves in fantastical shapes. 

We dig through the forest, climbing hills and valleys, until we find the right ingredients for the pies. Bags stuffed with roots and berries and herbs, all in brilliant technicolour, we return. 

And then it's time to bake the pies. We walk down the twisting path made of many round stones embedded into the ground, stones that look like glass and are deeply translucent. We bring the fruits and the water and everything else we gathered. 

We take the light pink flour and pour it onto the countertops. We say the right spells and incantations and magic swirls all around us, turning the the ingredients into pies. The smell of sweet, rich, fruity and fresh baking fills our senses, making our mouths water. 

It is at this time that we have to go to lunch. The holograms and fog swirls away and we all gather together by the door. 

It takes us fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant. We grab a seat at one of the large tables right beside the fountain, under chandeliers made entirely of coloured crystal that glows from the inside, from light sources we can't see. There are rivers of coloured water all around us, originating from the fountain, and the walls are creamy white and buried under a web of dim strings of light. The restaurant smells citrusy and fresh, and the sound of bubbling water reverberates everywhere. 

We all look at the menus in front of us, books made of many slim, tiny touchscreens bound together, shining elegantly under the light. There are so many delectable things to order. I have no idea what I will choose. 

Eventually I set my mind to the stuffed lobster with cream sauce, with a side of Caesar salad. It tastes absolutely divine. I don't think I've ever tasted better food. I don't think I ever will. My tastebuds feel like they're absolutely dancing with fizzing, savoury flavour and I find myself absolutely overwhelmed at all of it. It fills me and leaves me warm and hungry and longing for more. And so I order another plate. And this plate is just as flavourful and perfectly-balanced as the first. 

For desert I choose fruit custard with ice cream, and it is rich and full and just seems to wash over my mouth. It's cold and warm both at the same time. And the rich wholeness of the custard and the creamy lightness of the ice cream balance each other out perfectly. 

For drinks I have a tall glass of red wine diluted with cherry pop, which I know I'm too young to drink. But Lydia smiles at us mischievously and tells us that we can buy alcohol. No-one needs to know. We all smile at her. I'm so glad that she's on our side. 

After lunch we go back to the gaming studio. And the next part of the game is to catch one of the clouds that fly in the sky. The sky is blue now and the clouds are fluffy and creamy and curling. We each have intricately braided lassos. Mine is coral and Clara's is magenta. They are made with shiny threads woven through them. We run after the clouds as they soar by, throwing our lassoes up at them. 

We finally catch a cloud and we bring it down, pulling with all our strength. We get on the cloud and let it take to the sky with us. 

The next part of the journey is so exciting. We ride through the sky in the cloud, moving fast, the ground far down below us. We steer it around exotic birds and over great trees and under billowing clouds. We have to work as a team, together in tandem. And we have to be hyper alert to everything. 

Eventually we reach the market. And there we meet all of our other friends. We set up an intricately carved booth and the rest of the people do the same. And we all sell our wares, each pair of us having different things to sell. There are pies, there are muffins, there is bread. There is wines, there are dresses, there are shoes. It's all such a very cute market. I could spend a whole bunch of time here. And I do. 

The game ends when we've all bought from each other, and we get back into our cars. And then wee we talk for ages about how fun the game was, who our partners were, what our cottages looked like, what kinds of different activities we did.

We continue chatting as we file back into the restaurant. I order a steak drenched in creamy curry sauce and the spicy and savoury flavours dance across my tongue in warm, full flakes. I let myself get wrapped up in the sensation of taste. I let it flow through me and overwhelm me. I cut the steak up into into pieces and try to make it last as long as possible. 

Before ordering desert, I think about how perfect this day was.

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