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The sun tries its hardest to break through the low-hanging mist. We are moving through the prettiest part of our route: the heath, dotted with fantastic pines and beeches that glimmer silvery white through the fog. [private]I would gladly step out into that mysterious world. In my poor, city-girl imagination, I envisage the gradual clearing… Continue Reading The Sweet Factory Girls by Tessa de Loo
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