The Stream had a trickle of water, and the conversation flowed freely with the occasional exciting rapids of passionate enthusiasm, disagreement, or binding agreement.
Several layers looked like strata from mad geology.
Top hats and printed tablecloths were not obligatory; they were displayed with exuberant delight at the passing of the totalitarians.
A rustling leaf and long shared table with wine and home-baked bread style of liberty wafted from every space.
Long days in rural-urban sprawl.
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