Reblogged from Pen of the Damned:

Every day, never wavering, Stacey would go on her walk through the forest at the moment the sun started to burst through the ceiling formed by the tall trees. Virgin pines with broad branches of thick needles, they grudgingly fought the onslaught of the light’s invasion, resenting any intrusion into their domain.

This was Stacey’s chosen time to be alone and commune with nature.

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Poor Stacey! Some days are . . .