In twilight's hush, when sun bleeds gold to ash, On moonlit fields, where shadows twist and crash, A spectral herd takes form, a ghostly moo, Cow shadows dance, where mortal hooves once flew. Hooves that clattered, bells that softly chimed, E…
They Don't Bite Melai hated insects, especially mosquitoes. Their itching bites and relentless buzzing could ruin her entire mood. Unfortunately, outdoor gatherings seemed to guarantee her status as the main course for those blood-thirsty bugs. …
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