The wind of fury was falling upon the world with its ghostly figures. Blood and suffering, turmoil and chaos were flirting with a dazzling wind imitating some unknown and macabre dance. The little girl with a red shirt could not understand what was going on since she could not hear or see or feel anything. She simply anticipated that the world was proceeding with its endless journey towards life. The salamander saw sketches of light which did not match nor make any sense at all. He remained still along the girl’s left hand. The butterfly’s eyes were projecting sculptures of colours through millions of micro-eyes but she failed to grasp what was the meaning of all this thus leaving her with no choice than wondering along in the girl’s hair. The Penguins’ knew too well what was coming; they had seen the humans’ shadows all around with their smell of death and taste of power; they stood up on their fragile legs and surrounded the fragile little girl and took her by their fragile wings and all went away through the gates of fate…
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