réalité peu romantique

The cool, crisp air lingers throughout the sunshine-filled pasture.
The calm lull of fat cows wafts across the Lilly-filled hills.
The majestically-colored pedals flow along crystal-clear streams.
The waterlily. The ferns. The deep, rich smell of early spring.
I stare at my computer.
I shut it off, get into my stone-cold bed, and go to sleep.

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