She slammed the door of her room, and went through her hair with her fingers. What did Deb have, that she didn’t have?
Furiously, she walked to her dresser, and opened the first drawer. She took out the letter Deb had written for Dale, a blank piece of paper, and a pencil.
She started Scrivere on the blank page, trying to mimic Deb’s handwriting as good as possible.
In the meantime, the community was gathered outside. Dale wasn’t among them. He wanted to be left alone, with his sorrow as his sole companion.
The community was gathered around the well. Three men walked towards it, and lifted...
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