If things were different, we would live in Escher’s world. Up would be down, sideways wouldn’t exist, and we would just roam stairs. But I guess that’s kind of what we do now anyway.

If things were different, whales would fly. They would blow floral clouds into the sky from their blowhole which seems like an accurate interpretation. Petals falling all around us.

If things were different, paintings would move like a hypnotic dance. Galleries would be full of people in a trance staring at merging colours and colliding shapes. 

If things were different, we could retain every minuscule detail, gnawed right down to the bone. We would be depleted yet still full.

If things were different, we could exist without relying on food or water. Maybe we would photosynthesise like plants and gain strength through the falling raindrops on our skin. 

If things were different, clouds would pulse through our veins. Anger: a fiery sunset; sadness: a dark blue night. Happiness would be strips of floating clouds that look like the ocean.

If things were different, we’d be smaller. Much smaller than we are now. We would live under leaves, in trees, and be prey to bigger things. Some people definitely need to feel smaller. That’s a fact.

If things were different, nature would be the most important thing. And everyone would be second place. And, maybe, maybe then, everyone would feel smaller. 

And everyone would feel together. 

Yes, as if in Escher’s world, things would be different, and they may now be different, but up is down for all of us, and sideways doesn’t exist, but I see stairs and I wonder where they lead.