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The girl in the chronicle

The road to the place she already had to call home could hardly be lost at that time.

Even if I want to be lost, now are the others who cannot let me lose my way. Apparently, I can forget about myself but they cannot forget about me, together with people, the streets cannot forget, nor the sheets and pieces of newspapers thrown on the sidewalk.

At the door of the old house, the echoes of her name could be heard from an old television or radio. She had already realized that it would be talked about her every day until someone else appears in the chronicle. Often it is simply a matter of days.

They had promised to her that the voices would stop on the doorstep of that house without time. One day in that place and it would seem to her as if she had lived all her days there.

While other persons at that lunch continued to eat the soup quietly, so slowly that they almost forgot about it, instinctively, she grabbed the TV remote control. On the screen, she spotted the four letters that made up her name. No one in the room reacted, now that name belonged to everyone else except to her.

She has been for so long the clothes she has worn, the steps she has taken, the name which she has been called, the people she has known. Now that Lucy has thrown them away, the girl in the chronicle does not even know her anymore.

After lunch, Lucy waits at the timeless house. She waits and does not know what to expect. She waits for something to steal her eyes. Why not her thoughts?! And with one bite, Lucy chews the words, and with one bite she chews the impossibility of being a child once again. And Lucy begs to give when everyone begs to receive because she has no one to give her hours or days anymore. Meanwhile, minutes, hours, and years are rotated like coins in her hands. And the timeless house rests in silence because Lucy will never be a child again.

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