"Then she kept trying to mess with my head".
"I really have nothing to hide from her, but she kept looking anyway".
"I realized it wasn't me hiding anything, it was just the thing in my head".
Islas voice comes from my left as we walk down a slight descending slope.
She sounds older, not her voice, but it seems she is no longer hesitant when she speaks.
I understand, I went through a phase like that in the jungle, when I first looked at little mountain.
I already thought three thousand miles was a lot of wildlife for two kids to cross, that is the expanse of the continental United States.
Then we got to the desert, then little mountain.
This shit is way too big.
The descent is dark, but with a bit of blindness I can discern the shades around me.
Milk makes a weird humming noise, at Islas words, like he just found money on the floor.
"You have one as well"?
