So what happens when I just write something random, something nonsensical off the top of my head?
Do you really want to know the things that can cross my mind in an instance, fleeting, like butterflies in autumn?
Well then, let me tell you a story...
Imagine a girl, young, long auburn hair flowing in a light breeze. She's standing barefoot on a grassy hill, her simple light pink sundress dotted with small white spots dancing as the tiny gusts flip the skirt around her legs. She's holding a few wildflowers in her hand, and a misshapen crown of small blooms and buds rests tangled into the top of her hair. She looks skyward, silently, as