I’m standing on one of the stone bridges that cross the small river passing through town when I hear someone passing by. I don’t think much of it of course, it’s a common spot to pass through, but I take a glance anyways. I’m met with a face I’ve never seen before, which, in this town of not even 30 people, is unheard of. They must be the new farmer I’ve heard so much gossip about. I decide I’d like a chat with them and turn to them and smile. Good morning. Are you busy?
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