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Before And After A War

The fields used to go on for miles. Vast amounts of luscious greenery, smothering every ounce of the gravely earth like a thick duvet. Tiny seed saplings nourished themselves; they were bedded into the smallest patch of dirt to maintain that extra bit of warmth, even though the sun sizzled brightly in the glistening blue sky. There were lots of unusual flowers here. All dotted around the place, so rich and luxurious, like a freshly made canvas which an artist has flicked their runny paint upon. It was picture perfect. Something that should be hung up in a grand hall for everyone to notice.

It was so peaceful here. The sound of blue birds and robins, singing lullabies in the tall towers of the trees as they swung swiftly in the light breeze. I liked to come here to relax. So quiet.  The humming from a Queen bee as it nestled upon a fox glove, collecting pollen. Such a simple life. So carefree. You could smell the sweet pollen tainting everything which went right up my nose making it twitch and itch vigorously. Their, flower scents would trail throughout the air like some kind of fragrant ghost.

It was very deserted and was quite a secluded area. It was good to come here and think from time to time, to clear my head. When trudging through this emerald wasteland you could occasionally see the scurrying of a hare, darting around fidgeting in it’s burrow, or just simply running around freely. You could see the adrenaline in its mysterious amber eyes. That shimmered and gleamed in the light, similarly to mine when I used to gaze deeply into a blazing fireplace. Your feet would sink into this apple green grass with its texture like horse hair, but would immediately spring back as soon as you stepped off. It was so full of new life. You would think you were imagining everything you saw in this place like something taken straight from a fairytale book, minus the pixies and dragons. The butterflies would make up for that. They fluttered around like pairs of eyelashes, which would be very calming to watch, but their wings were enough to hypnotize anyone. The patterns on them were amazing like embroidery, all intertwining with one another as though they should be sewn together like laced fabric. They were very mesmerizing.

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Daisies and Daffodils delicately covered parts of mother earth and because not many people would come here it was almost as if it felt lonely. Like it wanted children to come play and enjoy what it could offer. The daises were like dust covering anything else that wasn’t grass. They were hardly trodden on. It would almost make the place cleaner if there weren’t any flowers. In the distance past the sloping hill tops you could see the smallest winding road, which cars drove steadily along. It looked like millions of tiny ants crawling along a thin prickly twig. ...

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