Prologue

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7 years ago

A little girl about five wondered down the alleyway, tracing the old red bricks with her small fingers and mumbling to herself. 'Flicka, Flicka, Flicka, Flicka" she mumbles.

She got to the end of the alleyway, but instead of heading out into the big, real world in hope of a better life than her own, she just turned around and went back down the alleyway again, tracing along the same old bricks and mumbling. "Flicka, Flicka, Flicka,"

It soon got dark, and the small child tired of her constant act of tracing the bricks and mumbling, so she lays down on a pile of big bags to sleep.

She mummers in her sleep. "Flicka, Flicka, Flicka"

Nobody ever came down that alley, and she never came out.

The Sound of a Beating Heart(completed)Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu