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[Someone is curled up in the garden tonight. She's laying down on her side and prodding the journal close to her. A weak groan as she rolls onto her back and kicks a leg into the air.]
The night sky is different here. It's still strange...
[and she kicks her other leg into the air before resting them back on the ground.]
It is pretty, in it's own way. I wouldn't mind the sky back home though.
The night sky is different here. It's still strange...
[and she kicks her other leg into the air before resting them back on the ground.]
It is pretty, in it's own way. I wouldn't mind the sky back home though.