Read "Doomsday" by Warwick Deeping online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
They were cutting the grass in the Long Meadow. The whir and clatter of the reaper had begun very early, and from the iron seat Furze guided the "greys." The swathes had fallen with the dew upon them, and a potent sun was turning them from green to grey, and already the fragrant smell of the dried grasses was floating on the air.
The cutting had begun yesterday.