I felt like suffocating. "She won't go to school?" I asked. "What would she do at school?" he replied. "Would her sewing be better if she goes? Will she find out why she came here, why she's going and how to survive first love?"
"I will not survive first love," I said with difficulty, looking at Arina.
Luke was silent like an old man full of wisdom; he was three years older than me; he took his sister on his shoulders and we went further away into the valley. The rivers were as white as milk and were s’owly boiling.
"Try to put your foot in my footsteps, he said, there are spots that are quicksand while others are solid they are shifting, everything is ever-changing; only the river stays where it is, although this is not expected from it...the river shows the way”
Facing the sun with her eyes c’osed, Arina was singing and dangling her feet on her brotherls chest.
We sat on the riverls edge, among huge white rocks and green grass. We laid on the cobbles to catch some sun, then we dipped in the river, the water was thick as milk and steamy. Arina was chasing some blue small butterflies. There was a smell of sunbaked stone, grass and milk. I was looking at that area, arid, reddish, little vegetation, my eyes wondered along the rivers. They were flowing towards a plateau, rising to the sky, like a wall.
"Here the land is desolate, there is too much iron, and there aren't many pastures," said Luke.
