Whore journalist

The absence of my master will last for another two months, this news has thrown me into despair and I feel the need to get out of this too empty house. Outside I hear the roar of the bikes of the neighborhood kids, perhaps the same ones who made me play the teacher’s game. I go to the attic from where I can see the road beyond the garden: yes it is them and with them also the goalkeeper’s son: they are playing football in the street. I put on a skirt and a…

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