Ficly

When I Die

With the wind in the willow trees and the dew in the fresh grass, all seemed right and beautiful on a pleasantly warm and sunny morning at the tail-end of Summer. This is where my childhood is, was, will be contained for all of eternity. In this wonderful place at this exact time. And if there is a god, when I die he will return me to this place and I will relive the beauty again and again and again.

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