The vague touch of the wind was shaking all the trees.
Freezing breeze through the leaves.
In the wood that day was cold so I sneezed.
The path was hidden by an abstract picture of chunks of trunks, berries and rocks.
Petrified by the scary screamy howl of a fox.
The mountain fox was awaiting me embalmed upon a mound.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI