The back county lane was almost knee-deep with rain water, washed up gravel, mud, and all sorts of busted weeds, twigs and other debris. Jill had to get the alpacas off the southern field though, so this was her only means to get them to the raised western portion of her property before the weather…

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A lone craft glided out on the dark lake in the morning fog. A rowboat leaving lazy ripples in its wake. As the ghosts of mist danced on the water, reaching to ascend into the sky, a lone girl pulled the oars. Stroke. Stroke. Drift. The fog made way, allowing her passage into the realm of pre-dawn…

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