Penelope walks in peace, putting her mind at ease but does not dare to practice any pretend speech. She was going to tell the truth, tell them until they can't bear the scenes playing in their imagination. It might be cruel, but that was it all about. The story itself is already inhuman, telling it secondhand is hard but she decided to come and sing about the matter she's afraid yet greedy to overcome.
She could take the bus to home but the weather is already in peace outside, a perfect gloomy color to unwind and reflect. She can see random strangers walking with someone else's, they look happy and such. The things she couldn't enjoy fully when the threat of the past is threatening to spill just in time.
Laughter filled the street where kids were playing, in their usual bubbly self whe
