There lies a place untouched by neither soul nor wind, hidden among the deep recesses of man’s mindless abyss. Every human being has seen its cloud-spotted sky, smelt its dark earth from which grass ripe with green sprung. All have heard the whistles of a windless wind caught somewhere in the boundary between Earth and Space. Though all know of it, none have yet located its manifestation. The place is Peace.      No tainted toe may touch the fields and hilltops there, though many sainted souls, from lands tried and true, gather and walk within obscure valleys. Trees tarnished with man’s stale breath cover hills man has trodden. It is no earthly realm.      Peace is home, and only such a home as peace may never cease to exist only in the mind of Maria. A young, beautiful woman, Maria cared for the core of life, and sought simplicity in living. Her problem rested with her proclivity to ponder. What’s life without wonder? More marvel comes in death, she thought, than ever the fruits of life.      Pure joy juxtaposed with life creates a certain trivial joviality that, when existing, substantiates the meager importance of a giant ant in a Russian rain forest; however, once lost to some bland oblivion, that exact trivial joviality becomes important, such as the necessity of sun at night.      For Maria, the sun shone too brightly, blinding her for an instant. During that moment when she saw no more, her vision blurred to a lucid clarity. It was as though the world lay within her grasp; all she need do was reach. Yet, seeing so blindly clear, Maria withdrew her hand before she’d begun to move it. The world called to her, but Peace sounded it’s need for Maria far louder than any lively force could ever have done. No feral cry could echo within the walls of her soul louder.      What were these thoughts that had become her life? After years of turmoil, she’d finally passed the impasse. Yet instead of bringing fruition of spirit, she drew forth the darkness of despair that is all humanity. Why can she not encounter the simply joyous pleasures one should experience in life instead of this serious somber of living?      Her mind flooded itself with questions, all querying for the same solution. Maria knew, though she wouldn’t speak it. Instead, she had driven away from her home, far from her family, straight to an open port leading to Peace.      This place, a boundary between Earth and water, provided passage to the peace she sought. Standing atop her gateway—a low cliff overlooking a boundless sea pounding desperate rocks,--she peered at the sun. Only the top tip showed above the blue hue of water. Morning slowly crept over the land. Clouds splotched the burning sky, alight with new life.      …New life. Maria needed new life, new peace. Neither of which are attainable through the monotonous inhale and exhale of air that sustains one’s humanity. So many times had she wanted to halt the steady rush of air, to feel it falter! Yet never had she had clarity of mind enough to reason around doubts.      Now, viewing the vastly beautiful land, she stepped forward to the edge of the cliff and raised the gun gripped in her shaking hand. Tears streamed over flaming cheeks as she cried for humanity, wept for its detrimental despair.      But because Peace called her, she blew away her beautiful mind. Maria’s body seemed to leap from the cliff with the bang and fly into some grand oblivion. As she fell into the sun-goldened blue hue, Peace eluded her. And the life flowed from her mind into the blue as a bright red tulip about her body.

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