Do you see the child before you, beyond your authoritative desk?
Ah ... is she a girl?
It is the same, this time it is really the same without discussion.
Because whatever you will define the young alive protagonist, the common thin is nothing.
Because the house, the suitcase, everything you had figured able to contain, welcome, it is blank. An immeasurable absence, an uncomfortable obstacle to face even for the wildest fantasies, rightly fearful of yet another disappointment.
Like a boa constrictor that just believes it had swallowed an elephant.
The child in the house, the girl with the suitcase, the hairless creature with the evanescent load on the shoulders is in front of you, now, with that same emptiness at stake.
Now give vent to yourself.
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