FLASH FICTION FRIDAY 55
She lived alone in her precious tree house tucked deep in the forest. She arose to sunbeams peeking through lacy, wispy curtains. She meditated to chirping birds and the rustling of squirrels. Mornings were spent gathering berries for picnics on the grass by her quiet peaceful home.
In her heart and spirit, it was real.
(Photo credit: Summer Home by firstname.lastname@example.org)
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