But that wasn’t fair on Luís, because he was an angel. There couldn’t have been an angel in heaven that was better than him...
Cowardly tears began to roll down my face. “Zezé, you’re crying...”
“It’ll pass soon. Besides, I’m not a king like you. I’m good for nothing. A naughty boy, really naughty... That’s all.”
“Totoca, have you been to the new house?” “No. Have you?” “I pop over there whenever I can.”
“But why?” “I want to see how Pinkie is.” “Who the heck is Pinkie?”
“He’s my orange tree.” “You found a name that really suits him. You’re good at finding things.”
He laughed and continued whittling what was going to be Silver King’s new body.
And how is he?” “He hasn’t grown at all.” “Nor will he if you keep watching him. What do you think?
Is this how you wanted the pole?” “Yes. Totoca, how is it that you know how to do everything?
You can make cages, chicken coops, nurseries, fences, gates...”
That’s because not everyone was born to be a poet in a bowtie. But if you really wanted to, you could learn.
I don’t think so. One needs to have the ‘inclination’ to do those things.
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