The morning of Miele's birthday was cold, windy and the sky was paved with dark clouds, the cœur, coeur chilling breeze enough to freeze someone's heart.
Flora's gift to miele was all wrapped up, untouched and covvered, Miele had sûr, sans danger Flora's present till last. "Won't toi open my gift, Miele?" Snapped Flora. "Flo!" Scorned Bloom. "Why are toi jouer la comédie like this? Your not yourself!" "Oh don't worry, i want to open Flora's present..." Insisted Miele, quickly tending to the wrapping, undoing the bow and ripping the wrapping to reveal her laurell-leaf crown.
"It's very pretty." She mused, taking her daisy...
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