jemifer
I was obsessed with the way she walked, the way she moved, the clothes she wore, even, to my embarassment, the way she smelt. I simply could not get her out of my head and she would hang around there poking into my thoughts and peering around the darkest recesses of my brain like a nosey relative.
They pushed their way through the thick tangle of dead wood limbs. Ever branch and thorn catching on their clothing and in their hair. It was tough and slow going and she began to worry that they wouldn't make it through in time. But they had no choice they had to get there before sunset.
Fluffy white wool sticks to the fence and the bramble bushes along the edge of the field. The grass is cropped short but there is no sign of sheep. Unsurprising as a large Alsation can be seen racing across a ridge in the distance.