your legs ache from running, and your knees are raw from falling into the dirt one too many times. the sun is golden in the early evening, and it casts a glow around the trees. your shoulders are painted a deep yellow, and the leaves cast teardrop shadows along your arms. your hair is wild and your nails are bitten short, covered in flower pollen and leftover juice from the berries you picked. you are adored when you enter, and missed when you leave. life is a painting, and you are the flowered focal point.
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