The steam rose on the square after the summer rain, and like ghosts, the people of the village drifted back. The sun blazed. Barefoot, Anton ran over the pavers jumping in warm puddles.
Photo Source: Berenger ZYLA/Foter.com/CC BY-NC-ND
I prepared this post so as to participate in this weekend's Trifextra over at TrfectaWritingChallenge.com.