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Summary
Everyone had one.
Tied around the base of the pinky finger, invisibly tethered to one of the seven billion individuals out there, there was a tiny, red string. People believed that the other person at the end was supposed to be your soulmate; or at the very least, it was the most compatible person you’d ever find in your lifetime. Some people called it fate or destiny, others called it the red string of the gods.
The Farmer however, at this moment, called it an annoyance.
