Her – hero

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Far – farm

 

Oat – goat

 

Hill - chill

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There was nothing special about her under the moon. She was neither short nor tall, fair haired and grey eyed. She always slept deeply, lying on her back, nothing betrayed life in her but the ebb and flow of her chest. A fly was slowly making its way across the girl’s face, briskly drumming its legs against the marble skin. There was no one to drive the critter away, so it was free to explore the human and its den for hours. 

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A loud smack welcomed the rising sun but it wasn’t quick enough to catch the fly. Amanda opened her eyes, squinting in the stream of amber. She rushed to the bathroom and saw a beautiful girl in the mirror, her lively face beaming with a wide smile. She knew today she would meet her hero, there was no one like him under the sun. She broke her fast on a plate of oat porridge and a cup of goat's milk. Some minutes ago the girl was running down the hill, wrapping herself in an old coat to fend off the biting morning chill. She was heading to the large familiar house, well seen from a far, far away.. It was finally the day for her to helm father’s farm.