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Weekly Contest #160
The tall, yellow grass blew in the warm wind as clouds swirled in the blue sky above. While many would believe a storm was approaching, Mylta knew better. It had been a year since rain fell had fallen. A year filled with famine, fire, fear. She couldn’t quite remember the feel of rain on her skin, couldn’t recall how her lips once felt before they became cracked. Drought is all there was, all it seemed there would ever be. Some said it was a curse. Others believed it was just “their time”, an overdue break in the long streak of g...
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