Avery I
She lies in the grass staring up at the clear blue sky. The sun’s rays kiss her freckles. She loves this more than anything: whenever she can, she sneaks out to the lush green yard tucked behind her home, picks the softest spot of grass, and sprawls, looking upwards. She loves being hugged by the grass—soft, fresh, smelling of summer, of rain, life. She…
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