She fell asleep, dressed, and goes almost without looking in the mirror, across the street, the car picks her up a few feet and fell on the wet pavement by the rain.
While those who saw the accident run to the prostrate body, she keeps running without wondering how it is possible and where it goes, so early, so not fixed. Knock on the door of a nearby house, or perhaps far, who knows. The man who serves is as old as his father would have today. If I asked what he wants, she does not know how to explain, but the man passed, quiet, and the guide to the room. One sees the back of the chair, a favorite of his father, all disappeared from his home when his mother told him he was dead. In that chair she would read the stories of childhood, spoke of the happy times that just waiting to grow.
grew and yet this morning, woke with a start but without thinking about it, remembering the broken promise now, approaching her on the couch and let him who is sitting in a hug again, maybe start a reality.
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