Rolling Hills: A Shortstory Set in a Serene Community

The view from the farmhouse was that of fields on rolling hills. In the summertime, the hills came alive with Elfun grass that swayed with the breeze. The autumn, Kara watched from her bedroom window as the men harvested the grass, gathering it up with scythe and twine, then loading it on to the wagons. In the winters, the hills were barren mounds of short stubble that lay in wait for the spring thaw. And, in spring, the first signs of life sprouted and grew nearly fast enough to be seen with the naked eye.

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