I have been lied to.
The letter from my late grandfather which arrived at my desk spoke of freedom. It spoke of an alternative from the daily grind of the city life, of charming adventures, of hard work rewarded and of peace of mind.
An abandoned farm just for me! As I packed my luggage, I was already dreaming of quirky neighbours, magic sprites and turnips. So many turnips. But once I reached my destination, Pure Farming 2018‘s harsh truth was revealed to me: grandpa’s farm was riddled with debts. And The Bank wanted me to pay. (more…)
from Rock, Paper, Shotgun http://ift.tt/2pqUH04
via ifttt
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen