Squad141
The Purple Soul
Cynthia lived in the great Wisconsin plateaus with her guardians, Holly Smith, who was a farmer and Cynthia’s aunt, and her partner, Lily. They lived on a small family farm that had been passed down for ages, of which Cynthia would one day inherit. Their land consisted of the house, where they slept, the barn, where they kept their animals, and their windmill, a hand-made wooden decoration that rose high into the air.
Below their barn was a trapdoor that led to the storm cellar, where they would go if a tornado to appear.
When standing next to one of the small rivers nearby, Cynthia could see the washed-out landscape of the plateau. The sun baked much of the land, including the streams and reeds and tips of the grass, into a color similar to dull gray. The barn had once been painted red, but sun had baked it too, and it had blistered to the same color as the marsh.
It was Mr. Midnight that made Cynthia smile and saved her from growing as dull as her surroundings. Mr. Midnight was not gray; he was a black cat with smooth hair and a chip in his ears. His yellow eyes twinkled merrily down the slope of his small nose and whiskers.
Today had seemed like a very normal day, though the sky was a bit grayer than usual. Holly stood on the porch watching the windmill turn steadily.
Here, we find our protagonist, Cynthia Smith...
Below their barn was a trapdoor that led to the storm cellar, where they would go if a tornado to appear.
When standing next to one of the small rivers nearby, Cynthia could see the washed-out landscape of the plateau. The sun baked much of the land, including the streams and reeds and tips of the grass, into a color similar to dull gray. The barn had once been painted red, but sun had baked it too, and it had blistered to the same color as the marsh.
It was Mr. Midnight that made Cynthia smile and saved her from growing as dull as her surroundings. Mr. Midnight was not gray; he was a black cat with smooth hair and a chip in his ears. His yellow eyes twinkled merrily down the slope of his small nose and whiskers.
Today had seemed like a very normal day, though the sky was a bit grayer than usual. Holly stood on the porch watching the windmill turn steadily.
Here, we find our protagonist, Cynthia Smith...
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