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Not like that

It was a warm Saturday morning; an ideal time to divorce oneself from demanding tasks. James was listening to the subtle sounds of nature when a shadow obstructed the warm rays of sunshine on his face.

‘James,’ he heard his mother speak from above him.

‘Yes mum?’ he responded without as much as cracking an eye open.

‘We are heading for a meeting at the Kombo’s and then we will go and see a farm near them,’ she said.

‘Town or the farm?’ he asked lazily.

‘Out of town,’ she replied.

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