You made your way through the fields on the outskirts of town, a cool but gentle breeze blowing through your hair. The cloudless sky showed no sign of the huge storm that passed through a few days ago, but when you got to the river you found the mark it left: the splintered remains of the wooden bridge that the flood swept away. Great, now how are you going to cross the river to get into town?
It’s the last day of summer, and the sun shines bright and beautiful. No sense in turning back so soon.
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