Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep
Merry Much Happens
Catherine Nicolai
I leaned back in the tractor seat and propped my feet unprofessionally on the dash. For a few minutes, I just sat and sipped and listened and looked. The sky was cloudless. There would be no snowfall tonight, and there was only the faintest bit of wind stirring the treetops. When I'd had the last sip of cider from my cup, I closed up my thermos and started the tractor.
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