III. Days, colours and the wheel of the year
Three years went by. We were finishing primary school and we were already eleven years old.
Sarah had discovered pink nail polish, I, instead, hid myself into large black hoodies whenever I could. I had insisted upon having a school uniform one size larger than mine.
In these years we have witnessed Alison’s mum’s illness close, she fought hard against breast cancer; it seems she managed at last.
Sarah was shocked when she saw her without hair for the first time, she cried all night long. Mum explained to her that some treatments were really strong, but absolutely necessary.
“That’s not fair, her hair were so beautiful!”, she said between sobs.
“I know, darling, but they will grow again, don’t worry”, she comforted her.
“We should pass ou
