𝒜𝓃 ℴ𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓁ℯ 𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓁𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇𝓈 ℰ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒽.
𝒯𝒽ℯ ℒ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒦𝓃ℴ𝓌𝓈 ℰ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ.
𝒜 𝒷ℯ𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌ℯ𝓇,
𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ,
𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝓅ℴ𝓈ℯ,
𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓈ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽𝓉. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ ℐ 𝒶𝓂, 𝒶 𝒻ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 ℒℴ𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝒹𝓇𝒾𝒻𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈𝓀𝓎, 𝓋𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓂 ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓇ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹. 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒹𝒶𝓎, ℐ 𝓈ℯ𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽.
ℐ 𝓈ℯ𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝒽ℴ𝓅ℯ, 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓁ℯℊℯ𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒹ℴ𝓃'𝓉 ℯ𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉.
ℬ𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝓁 ℯ𝓁𝓈ℯ 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓁ℯ𝒹 𝓂ℯ,
𝒲𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝓁 ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎,
𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝓁ℯℊℯ𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓇ℯ𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 – 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓂 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇 ℊ𝓁𝒾𝓂𝓂ℯ𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝓀𝓎. 𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 ℴ𝓃ℯ 𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒸ℯ𝒶𝓈ℯ𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝒷𝓁ℴ𝓌.
ℐ 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁.
𝒜𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃 𝓂ℴ𝓇ℯ.
𝒢ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒻ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇.
𝒜 𝒹𝓇𝓎 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁, ℯ𝓍𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓈𝒾ℴ𝓃𝓁ℯ𝓈𝓈. ℬ𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽ℯ𝓈 𝓂ℯ, 𝒷ℯ𝓉𝓌ℯℯ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒷 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻ℴ𝓇ℯ𝒻𝒾𝓃ℊℯ𝓇.
𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℴ𝒻 𝒶 𝒷ℯ𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎.
ℐ 𝓁ℴℴ𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝒽ℯ𝓇 ℯ𝓎ℯ𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓃ℴ ℯ𝓃𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝒽ℯ𝓇 ℊ𝒶𝓏ℯ. 𝒯𝒽ℯ ℒ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒦𝓃ℴ𝓌𝓈 ℰ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℐ 𝒶𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ.
ℬℯ𝒻ℴ𝓇ℯ ℐ 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝓅ℯ𝒶𝓀, 𝓈𝒽ℯ 𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓅ℴ𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝒽ℴ𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓌 𝓋ℴ𝒾𝒸ℯ.
"ℐ 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌ℯ𝓇, 𝒶𝓁𝓁 ℴ𝒻 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓂ℴ𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝓉ℴ 𝓃ℴ𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ.
𝒯𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝒾𝓈 𝓃ℴ 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ.
𝒯𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝒾𝓈 𝓃ℴ 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝓅ℴ𝓈ℯ.
𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓌ℯ 𝓈ℯℯ𝓀 ℴ𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒾𝓂𝓅ℴ𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁ℯ.
ℐ 𝒶𝓂 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓁ℯℊℯ𝓃𝒹.
𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓁ℯℊℯ𝓃𝒹 𝒹ℴℯ𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉 ℯ𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉." 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒷𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽, 𝓈𝒽ℯ 𝒷𝓁ℴ𝓌𝓈 𝓂ℯ 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝒻𝓁ℴ𝒶𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓊𝓅 𝒶 ℊ𝓊𝓈𝓉 ℴ𝒻 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹.

𝓓.𝓓.𝓛.𝓒.
𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊
𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎