The Meadow

October 4, 2009
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I lay here, underneath the thirty year old tree in my grandmothers meadow. The beautiful meadow, accompinied by many flowers had a sweet smell. A smell like no other. I lay here thinking about the tree. The thoughts scrammbled into the back of my mind when the rain had fallen. Running, barefoot, on the dirt road towards my grandmothers dry shelter, I leaped into the house. Cold, and wet i dry myslelf with an old towel. Suddenly, i heard a horn. My mother had come to pick me up I ran and jumped into the car trying not to get wet again. And again i began to think.

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