Somewhere in 1995. With the little one (three with a little year) we go to the electric car to meet my mother - she and the older one went somewhere there. We slide slowly, cut the corners to get closer... In one of the hills, the little one notices a dead cat.
and killed?
In order not to focus the child’s attention on the injustice of being, I answer:
and no. and sleep.
...meters through four hundred small, with a deeply thoughtful rush:
She sleeps like a dead man.