CH. 2 "Windy" - Part III.

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Whisky stood up now that the rainshower was out of the way of the scenery. The fresh air filled her lungs and she took in the precious scenery of the grass-covered field of hills.

"Hey Frisk, let's roll down the hill!" Whisky suggested. "Oh, well..." Frisky relucted. After a few seconds however, she eventually decided. "Well, okay sure!"

Then, they both laid on the ground and started to roll down the side of the hill. The grass was soaked clean by the fresh rainwater, and the wind continued to blow a few fallen leaves into a chaotic, unsynchronized, beautiful dance.

A beautiful moment, which reminded Frisky of another such moment from exactly three hundred sixty-five days ago as she rolled down the hill.

But that moment was one that needed not be told by Frisky's memory. For in the four corners of Frisky's bedside drawer, a titled piece of paper dated exactly three hundred sixty-five days ago contained handwritten words that told the story of that memory from a perspective no one else could.

"An Amazing Day"

I woke up today like any day. I got up from bed like any other day. But it ended in a very special way.

Frisky and I went to the hills in the countryside. It was like a vast ocean of hills covered with fresh green grass, and a few trees specked in between.

We met up on the rural trail leading to these hills. I remember Frisky's exact words, but I don't remember mine. "Hey Bosco!" Frisky said when we saw each other. I felt cozy and safe at that moment because, I don't know, but something about her really is soothing.

We walked through the trail, surrounded by trees, carrying our bags. We saw a patch of blue flowers, and she picked one and placed it on the side of her ear. She saw a pink flower, and against my will, placed it at the side of mine.

We stopped for a break by a small stream. It was a long trail. I used to go to a stream close to home back then. After a long bad day, laying in the middle of a stream, and letting the water flow around me, and letting tears fall down my face, with no one there to judge, was just about the best thing.

"I love streams," I told Frisky.

"Why?" Frisky asked. I responded with something along the lines of "When I was a kid, streams were my best friend. When, you know who, fought, I would just go out and lay in a stream. When I felt lonely and sad, I would just go out and lay in a stream. Streams were my happiness."

Frisky looked at me with a concerned look, I'm not really sure why though. "Well, now you have more friends than a stream. You don't have to love streams anymore," she said. "Yeah, friends like you," I replied. "Yeah, friends like me," she replied back.

We went walking on the trail once more, and passed by a group of teenagers heading back from the hills.

"Hey there! Are the hills nice?" Frisky asked them. "Oh yeah. They're really nice madam," one of them responded. "Yeah, especially because of the wind, like that was phenomenal," another one added. "Oh really? Thanks! Have a safe walk back then," Frisky told them.

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