“Eddy, look!” shouted Anna, pointing at the sky. “It’s… gray!”
Eddy squinted up from his breakfast toast and blinked in surprise. The sky was indeed a dull shade of misty gray—not stormy or cloudy, just... empty.
Then they heard Lily X scream from outside. “My flowers! They’re all white!”
In a quaint village nestled between rolling hills, a mysterious legend fluttered through the air like the soft petals of spring blossoms. It was said that once every year, when the sun kissed the earth just right, the Rainbow Festival would illuminate the sky and drench the village in hues brighter than any painter’s palette. The villagers believed that if one could capture the rhythm of the...
