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On the lake.
Day 15 of my 100-day writing project.
A ferry ride
Day 8 of my 100-day writing project.
Sighing in belief.
It smelled like the earth and tasted like rust.
Wretched missile birds
‘SHIMB, there was a gun firing mishap and the route to our galaxy has been engraved on the rice fields this morning. Would you come check it out before the villagers can find out?’
Arrival in the city
Kiara was jolted awake from her deep slumber.