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The morning air carried the crisp, clean scent

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of pine and melted snow, waking Clara before

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the sun had even cleared the distant, jagged

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peaks.

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She stretched, her bare feet padding softly across

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the polished pine floor of the mountain

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chalet retreat.

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Stepping out onto the second -story wooden balcony,

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she wrapped her oversized woollen

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cardigan tighter around her shoulders and inhaled deeply.

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Below her, a sea of emerald -green forest

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stretched endlessly down the valley.

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A vast expanse of rustling leaves and ancient

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trees basking in the brilliant warmth of a

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clear summer sky.

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The balcony railing was lined with heavy wooden

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flower boxes, overflowing with a vibrant riot

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of crimson geraniums and alpine wildflowers that swayed

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gently in the breeze.

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Clara took a sip from her steaming ceramic

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mug of coffee, watching as a hawk drifted

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effortlessly on a thermal current far above the

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valley floor.

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There were no deadlines here, no notifications demanding

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her attention, and no rush to be

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anywhere.

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For the next week, this masterpiece of alpine

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architecture was entirely her sanctuary, a

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peaceful haven perched high above the noise of

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the world.

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She smiled, leaning against the sturdy timber, ready

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to let the quiet rhythm of the mountains

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heal her soul.

