Ghostie
Choose wisely. Or don’t. I love watching you die
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The scene is set on a rustic farm with a sprawling field bordered by an old wooden fence. At the center of this visual tableau is a bright red barn, its paint slightly chipped and weathered by the elements. Standing near the barn is a man of Caucasian ethnicity, his graying hair tousled and his face deeply lined from years of exposure to the sun. His eyes, a piercing blue, narrow as they focus on an approaching figure. He wears a pair of faded overalls over a plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, work-worn forearms. His boots are scuffed, suggesting long days spent laboring on the farm. In the foreground, another individual steps gingerly across the boundary, a neutral-color jacket draped over their shoulders and worn jeans brushing against the tall grass. The sky above is clear, casting a warm, golden hue over the scene, while the surrounding landscape is dotted with patches of wildflowers and rows of cultivated crops.
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