Christmas Eve of that year, it was very cold, the snow was several days every fall constantly as being adorn the city to celebrate Christmas Day. Little boy, holding baskets of rice paper offering to raise my voice, so that the boy cold with bare legs are still in the streets.
as the night was colder, the snow still falls well, exhausted boy go.
His desire was to go home to be cuddled in blankets but think of fear of being beaten father as bread does not get the item he dared not go anymore.
was a moment he looked at the houses of affluence, cozy nearby. suddenly he felt cold and hungry as ever.
even colder night sky. He nestled in between two blocks away to avoid malaria. remembered some matchbox, he opened fire for heating.
đang được dịch, vui lòng đợi..