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| Pixel Dreams |
And they rested under a tree before taking everything
inside. The land was rich, the people smiled. The end of summer would always
bring a feeling of plenty. The farm was small, and the neighbors would gather
for the harvest each year, a merry gathering of celebration. A raven perched on
top of the barn’s roof, his cry loud and sharp. As the weather changed,
everyone rushed, leaving a few tools behind. Autumn was coming. Next year they
would rest under a tree before taking everything inside, the land rich. It
would not rain though. It would never rain again. The farm was small, and it
had a raven. Ever again…
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