I walked down the road where the houses reminded me of Pride and Prejudice, Interview with the Vampire, and The Secret Garden. It was a hidden spot, my favorite spot to dream of being a ballerina and walk whimsically along imaging myself living in each house. This secret street was in the middle of a nondescript neighborhood that bordered what was once an undesirable neighborhood. There were ruby tulips lined up by the hundreds, the air smelled or iris's, I remembered my childhood. The next street was filled with scarlet poppy's, lemon and cream colored roses and lavish houses where I imagined artists and writers lived. I flashed back to a guy I once knew with onyx hair who was as mysterious as the occupants of the houses. He gave me a brass ring with a captivating green stone and faded Japanese letters stamped on the inside, which I never noticed until years later. It was the sweetest and only sincere gift ever bestowed to me from a guy and I felt the ring held such an entrancing presence that almost every stranger commented on it. I would flush as I accepted the compliments and eventually stopped wearing it because it reminded me so much of someone I never knew.