She remembered green. Great rolling green. Like the ocean. That great expanse of water that tossed her stomach ridding it of the moldy potatoes she'd eaten at her last meal on the island. They had come here for the gold and they found it, stretched out all around them glistening in tiny grains under the burning red sun. But the real treasure, the only treasure she found was the strange, new golden fruit that tasted like life.
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New painting on recycled house wood.
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