A Story

It all began among oak leaves and chestnuts, barks coming from the cottage. The brother was hitting the leaves and threw a chestnut at me, I cried, our mother came.

We went inside and eat the overnight porridge, it might have been Monday, washing day, the wringer came out my cousin

Author, fighting metaphorically for a sustainable future for the Planet, where the search for truth is sought with openness and honesty