Clover field

by brittanychavez

The smell of wet grass. The feeling of being supported by a diagonal hill. The shock of tiny wet pinpricks all over my body when a small summer rain comes by. Slipping and sliding on my way to the patch of clovers that is in focus. Clover leaves stuck in between my toes. A wide expanse of skin, which looks pale in this particular light.

And the sky.

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