Group #2
The sky hung over me like a blanket, each cloud a puff of pink cotton candy, the cozy barn smelled like freshly cut grass... and cow manure.
And then, out of nowhere, a big roar came out of me unexpectedly: I had just farted...
"Guys...I think we forgot the oxygen tanks back on Earth."
Chaos is the order that lives on, so it must be pure, and that is why it is the opposite of haste.
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