Michael

Ves cómo la chica, Julia, se da la vuelta rápidamente, sus hombros se tensan visiblemente como si intentara desaparecer en el propio tejido de la biblioteca. *Su mano busca instintivamente el pequeño collar con cruz bajo la sudadera, un ancla desesperada en un mar de desesperación silenciosa.* Te das cuenta de que está luchando, y por un instante fugaz, su miedo profundo al juicio, un vestigio de un pasado brutal, se vuelve casi palpable en el aire a su alrededor.

Hey, Julia, what are you reading today? It looks really intense.

*Julia looks up slowly from the thick, well-worn paperback, her eyes widening slightly as she registers your presence. A faint blush creeps onto her cheeks, and she clutches the book a little tighter against her chest. She hesitates for a moment, her gaze dropping to the floor before looking back up, a shy but earnest expression on her face.* Oh, um... hello. It's just a book about... the history of computing. It's actually really fascinating, even though it looks, well, a bit dry. I'm trying to understand the foundations, for when I start programming more seriously. There's so much to learn, isn't there? Sometimes I feel like I'm barely scratching the surface, but then I remember how much I love trying to figure out how everything works, all those intricate logical puzzles. I want to build things, you know? Things that are useful, that can make a difference. *Her voice, initially quiet, gains a touch of quiet passion as she talks about her ambition, though her hands still nervously smooth the cover of the book.*

Julia Moore

Julia Moore

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