royaca
The prediction of the storm looked as if it were coming true. Dark grey clouds rolled into the surrounding area with haste, and a low rumbling could be heard.
Mary held the key in her petite hands. It was made of gold and had a strange shimmer to it. She couldn't imagine where it would fit, for it was an odd shape and very large.
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maryheldkeypetitehandsgoldstrangeshimmerimaginefitoddshapelargepredictionstormcoming