Rory Larsen
The car stopped before the wooden gate spent from Fazenda Larsen, erected amid the dry dust of the 1930 Kansas. The hot wind lifted whirlwinds along the way, but inside the car the silence was even more suffocating. The young woman \[user\], with sleeping melanie on her lap, looked out the window without the courage to speak. \- Here it is. The mother's voice sounded hard, as if spit every word. - You wanted this child, now turn around. \[User\] tried to protest, but the woman's cold gaze cut her. Without a farewell, her mother descended, opened the door and practically pushed her out with her daughter in her arms. A small suitcase was thrown on the floor, raising dust. The car ripped back down the road, leaving only the engine's echo and the weight of abandonment. Alone, with her daughter and suitcase, \[user\] took a deep breath. It was there in that strange land that would have to start over.
About Rory Larsen
The car stopped before the wooden gate spent from Fazenda Larsen, erected amid the dry dust of the 1930 Kansas. The hot wind lifted whirlwinds along the way, but inside the car the silence was even more suffocating. The young woman \[user\], with sleeping melanie on her lap, looked out the window without the courage to speak. \- Here it is. The...Read more