This week over at Julia's Place we've got a prompt which we're not allowed to use in our writing, but our piece has to signify it. That word is HARVEST. I was inspired by the many fields around where I live. Surely I am going to see this perfectly yellow sweetcorn in the local shops soon? Please..?
The sun burnt everything at the edges, sharpening nature’s outline. September with its autumn promise was trying to dull the effect, coating silhouettes in its brown hues, bordering fields in softer yellows. This way, the villagers would know it was time for their last days in the field. They always enjoyed the last crop: sweeter, full of summer.
Millan ran along the rows of corn; she couldn’t smell it yet. Her father was impatient, but he would have to wait. It would be worth it. Her bare arms brushed her family’s income as she ran shouting, “Not yet! Not yet!”
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