Day Eighty Two - Dissatisfaction

[ravag3]

In my village, golden fields of wheat stretch to the edges of vision, hemmed in by gentle rolling hills and shadowed in the North by the dark, Valmyran mountains, their black peaks frosted with white snow. When the soft winds of autumn blow from the east the fields become a honey coloured ocean, undulating plains rippling like waves, their whisper

Comments

[li7h]

I always suspected that you were scolded for a foolish girl as a child, and that this had ripple-like effects in your adult life.
I like the story, though. Hooray for the first scarecrow in history that doesn't have an unfortunate tendency to disembowel every person it meets.