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Fallen Daisies (1)

“Oops!” Alice mumbled as she tripped over a tree root. She could see the meadow off in the distance; hear the bees buzzing and the little brook bubbling. In the dark forest, shafts of light peeked like little children through the thick canopy. Strolling through, Alice was at ease. She could hear birds in every tree, chirping their major melodies. She was reaching the edges of the forest now, where the vegetation thinned out and the first of the long grass broke through the ground. She picked up her pace to a light jog, over to the small wooden bridge that crossed the brook. Skipping over it – like she used to as a little girl – a wave of nostalgia rippled through her.
‘Why must everything simple end up so very complicated…?’ She thought, a melancholy smile playing on her rosy lips.
Stepping off the bridge she felt the long grass brush past her bare legs, the healing scars stinging. The daisies with golden yolk centres and white velvet petals had not changed in all the years she hadn’t been back to this place

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