It was not a noisy wind but the kind that suggests something very big and thin fresh from the horror of Infinite Space.
When wheat is ripening properly, when the wind is blowing across the field, you can hear the beards of the wheat rubbing together. They sound like the pine needles in a forest. It is a sweet, whispering music that once you hear, you never forget.
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When wheat is ripening properly, when the wind is blowing across the field, you can hear the beards of the wheat rubbing together. They sound like the pine needles in a forest. It is a sweet, whispering music that once you hear, you never forget.
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Her pulse pounded in her ears. She didn't need to turn around to know he was standing behind her. Most likely with a smirk at catching her impromptu belly dance.
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Her wide, gorgeous smile was the culprit. It was pure magic. Neighbors lined the parking lot, eager to empty their pockets, all so she'd shine that beam on them.