9muses stack007

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She was my pal… Because it was her, because it was me. She chose me from the first day
of our visit to the pioneer camp, and at each of the encounters of this very organized visit
(children’s theater, gymnastics, group meeting) she made me that little sign of recognition
exchanged by old friends, full of shared memories, brought together here or there by chance.
Even in the crowd, with her head thrown back. My blue eyes, perhaps. And I’m sure she
remembers me.