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My Surroundings

Gnats fly, like specks of pepper flouting in invisible butter. Birds chirp, a screech and whirr somehow pleasant to the ear-even though the same sound in any other capacity would be unpleasant.
The grass has been cut. The cutters have apparently attempted to cut it all into the same height, but Mother Nature triumphs as always, for in reality each blade of grass remains a unique length, shape and color. Should grass stains be a badge of honor as someone who dares to lie in the grass, or should they be avoided as something that detracts from beauty?




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