A purple mare with bright green markings steps onto a flat rock, carrying a basket of flowers. Behind her was a trail of diseased foliage and ill moss. She seemed quite pleased with herself as she sat and waited for others to arrive. Seemingly to noone in particular, or maybe to the opossom riding on her shoulders, she spoke.
"Let the first meeting of the gardening club begin!"
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Word count thus far: 68
Posts thus far: 1
"Let the first meeting of the gardening club begin!"
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Word count thus far: 68
Posts thus far: 1
