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| Wintersweet |
It was great to live in a remote village. No hurry. No stress. And no pollution, they told him, a stern look on their faces. He got rid of the car, of course. He wouldn't want to antagonize the villagers. One day, he dropped a knife on his foot (don't ask) and there was no doctor close by. It looked bad... He wrapped his foot up and they said "take this, it's fast". Well... not. The darn moped died three times on him. And when he reached the doctor, there was an odd bird hopping behind him. No stress, huh?
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