Follow the howling, comb the hairs, play the long hidden tail: leave the apparently safe street of the village on a path that they say dangerous but that has the shape of your spine, as clear as the nail of your index. In the woods there is no loneliness, but you are the companions of fear, the past you, the one you will become. As long as you open the mantle and let it in (Elisa Biagini).
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