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She handed herself to the streets of Asmara without resistance. The roads were invoked without a deliberate destination. Her mind is busy making her in her last story. For a while, the tales are hurtful creatures, and that people are very mistaken, as they only pay attention to their fun face. Tales are serrated beings that are worthy of taking seriously, implanting their impact deep, so we care after it is too late, and all that has gone through it. We create tales, but they soon get their independence, to attack us with unprecedented fierceness, and the worst defeats that come without introductions. Her feet took her to Freedom Street. He went through sewing stores. It was stopped by various spindle forms, the ends of which were contemplated, not spindle without a sharp end. Tales as well. For me, the novel raises a great question: Where is the truth in everything that happened? After completing it, you will understand that you were part of a maze. I thought the story was completely under your control