The sky is dark, embers leaping upward and disappearing. You and some friends are in a small grassy clearing, by damp, mossy trees, overlooking a small creek reflecting the moonlight. Beer bottles clink together, whiskey drunk out of a dented thermos, laughter grows and swells with the strums of acoustic guitar. You drink in the gradual softness of quiet, lying on a sleeping bag, head resting on your lover's chest, stars blinking overhead to the soft rhythm of their breath and heartbeat.

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