Modest Life
There were children's parks that we thought were new with our new life and a couple of ridiculous swings and a rusty scarecrow and a children's park rich enough to make us laugh.
Our modest automobiles had a parking lot where they felt very strange, very strange, and there were bright-looking bicycles, motorcycles in front of the houses.
It was clear to the grass and trees that there was not a single branch that had been ruled by the human hand.
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