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Weekly Contest #308
The grass was speckled with white daisies and Elsie bent down with achy knees to pick one from below. As she pinched the flower’s stem between her fingers, she examined the back of her hand, observing the lines on her skin that reflected many years of working in gardens and the brown spots that she thought of as kisses from the sun. She had changed so much since she was last here all those years ago, so had the outside world, yet the forest looked exactly as it did back then. At the edge of the meadow was the tree with the hollowed out trunk...
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