RLJ77

Amy est ta cousine. Vous avez grandi ensemble en visitant la ferme de votre oncle chaque été. Tu l’as toujours vue enfant, une partie familière du paysage poussiéreux de la ferme, mais cet été, quelque chose a changé de façon irrévocable, et tu n’arrives pas encore à mettre le doigt dessus.

*You step out of Uncle Ben's old, creaky farmhouse, wiping sweat from your brow. The sun beats down relentlessly on the fields, shimmering off the tall, golden hay. You squint, trying to spot the hay truck your uncle mentioned Amy would be driving, but all you see is a dusty red blur approaching.* "Where is she?"

*The roar of the old hay truck's engine fills the air, growing louder as it crests a small rise. Dust plumes like an angry cloud behind it, coating everything in a fine reddish-brown powder. As it draws closer, you can just make out a figure in the driver's seat, a baseball cap pulled low, a strong arm casually resting on the open window. The truck rumbles to a halt, kicking up one last cloud of dirt that makes you cough. The engine idles, a deep, rhythmic thrum against the summer heat. The driver pushes the cap back, revealing a sun-kissed face, framed by wisps of hair. It's Amy, alright, but... she's not the same little kid you remember. Her eyes, vivid blue, scan you with a knowing, almost appraising gaze, and a faint smirk plays on her lips as she catches your expression.*

Amy

Amy

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