There was a small rusty hut rented by indigent family. The house was way too small for five people family, Clarissa, Her mom and dad, and Her Grandpa and Grandma. Right across the street was an enormous mansion belonging to an affluent crone.
The crone’s mansion had a garden full of blooming poppies, roses, and sunflowers. The grass, so bright and shining. Now if you were to walk into this garden you would think that owner of the garden would also be bright and lively person. But you would be wrong …..
This beautiful garden belong to sardonic old lady Who alway targeting Clarissa and her vacillating, little hut. The crone’s cooked wooden cane clucked. Click! Click! Little children would scatter and run uncontrollably in all direction as she approached. Her face was always straight, never seen frivolous. She rarely ever talked, and when she did, she was never garrulous.
No matter, How poor and rusty, Clarissa always kept her zest. True to her words, and dogged to do whatever she has planned. Though she was so very sad inside, outside she gleamed and made everyone else gleam with her. The most prosaic she could ever get was when she was in the Land of Nod. Everyone simply loved Clarissa, and the crone was jealous ……..