~ButterslaveChildren
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The Night of the OrangeDark was the night I descended the hill. A girl on the curb there sat rather still.The Night of the Orange
She gave me a glance and as I came near I saw in her eyes a glimmer of fear.
The breeze softly blew and upon it carried the smell of an orange in her lap it was buried.
I smiled and enjoyed the warm citrus scent and continued home to record the event.
by =Czyrek
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