“Please turn it off!” He managed to get out as the cold sweat he had swum in not long before reemerged from its icy depths. Even in this state, he would kill them all to find the source he linked to his suffering as the smell of a candle might bring a survivor back to a concentration camp. An old woman who now held the magic girl in her lap looked back with a subtle shake of her head and the song was silenced. A short man with a kind face framed by a long mustache brought him a Dixie cup full of cool water and a couple of white flaky pills.
“Buenos días.” He motioned for him to take the pills. Before he obliged he noticed a large bandage covering his stomach, he immediately thought these gypsies had stolen his kidney but even the simplest of rudimentary knowledge confirmed that was not wh
