I’m laying on a patchwork quilt beside a happy little stream where a family of ducks paddles by. Around me are the rolling meadows. Here, the soft grasses are tall, with sweet, little flowers. The early summer sun is gentle and low, yawning and stretching her arms, blanketing a part of the sky in a mellow orange. Which caresses and intertwines fingers with the light blue of the day, like lovers parting.
This place sounds too good to be true… do you think so, too? Read on!Ready to float downstream in the Rolling Meadows?
ZRRRRRAAAAACCCH. Again, the noise. ZEEEEERRRACH. Again, louder. The noise sounds like it could be harmful.
