It was a lazy afternoon… The cicadas were thrumming in the background, as I hopped from shade tree to shade tree, to get out of the hot sun. The scent of freshly mowed hay filled my olfactory senses, intoxicating me like a drug. I made my way along the brook’s bank, stopping and peering down on it, listening to it trickle. Bumbling on its way to the river, it…
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