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Weekly Contest #97
Arica remembered it as if it were a far-off dream. It was cooler than usual that spring. The scent of tulips danced through her memories. The tulips outside her window had bloomed, despite the bitter spring air. The familiar scent took her back to her childhood bedroom. She was eight years old, sitting on a bed that was only big enough for her small body. Her bedroom was plain, with few decorations. The cool wooden floor was dressed in a plain ragged rug where she would sit with her only doll, which her father had made for her. She smiled at...
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