[Warning: extra-long chapter :) ]
There are some defeats more triumphant than victories.
--Michel De Montaigne
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“Do you remember the day we called each other family?” sitting by the streets, young Anastasia is being gently held by her mother—savoring the warmth that fights the freezing sensation brought by the late night breeze. “When you were littler than you are now, you asked. Me…’mama, why are you not like me?’” retelling a story of the past, her soothing voice is like a lullaby to the young child.
“I told you…because you did not came from mother’s belly. However, that doesn’t stop us from being a family.” As the voice continued to recall a fond memory of yesterday, the sweet dream is slowly fading away into the distance—making it seem that it something only meant to be seen
