“We’re in Paris now!” exclaimed my friend as we drove speedily on the two-lane highway to Canton.
My head swiveled back and forth looking for the town, and I saw thousands of tall spires of intricately designed green corn stalks, and ancient trees surrounding an elusive white building or two before we slipped past—
“We’re out of Paris now!” cried my friend gaily as I looked upon gorgeous, rich greens, of artistically styled fields of corn, soy beans, and lush, thick patches of tall trees that would make King Louis XIV green with architectural envy.
TR
Prose Me 