
-I see a poor father and daughter in the doorway of their old farm house. I see people exhausted after a long day of work as they sit tired and warn out.
-I smell the rancid aroma of feet. I smell the fumes of an old farm house.
-I hear the creaks of feet walking on the planks of wood. I hear the squeaks of mice scurrying across the floor.
-I taste the dirt and dust floating freely in the air.
-I feel the dirt smothering my body and the cracks of the barefoot feet.

-I see a man and women speeding anxiously down the street of their small town.
-I smell the fumes of gasoline from all the city cars. I smell the aroma of little cafes in the town.
-I hear the roar of engines and the honking from the old cars. I hear the faint voices of people taking down the street.
-I taste the city air blowing on my face. I taste the dust I breathe in with every breath.
-I feel the breeze in my hair and face while cruising down the street. I feel the dirt hitting my face as we ride.
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