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I do not know you, I have to say, young one. I don’t even know if you are a girl or a boy or what your exact age is. In truth I only know this: that one fine Spring night –or at least I hope it was Spring – you left your parents’ house, somewhere in England, and walked away and never came back. I don’t even know if you sneaked through a window or simply opened and closed the front door without waking anybody up.

I do know that you went East, obviously, and that over your shoulder you were carrying a small bag. No, no, you weren’t seen! It is just that, some time later, the bag’s disappearance was eventually noticed.

And yours too, some time after that.

So you went toward the East – on foot as you will be from now on. Why East? There again I do not know. And I will not try to guess: I care not to offend you by guessing my way into your head. I only know that, to the West, there is nothing but the sea, and in this day and age nobody goes to Her for adventures anymore.

And maybe you were not so much looking for something new as trying to leave something old behind. Some, who seem to travel, are merely fleeing…

I do not know and it does not matter. What really matters is that you made it, young one. During the days, when the police and their helpers and volunteers and all these people who thought they were helping, when they were looking after you, you slept in barns and disaffected buildings. It is strange, you may have thought, all these empty buildings when they always say the country is full? You slept in a church, once, also. They are mostly empty too. And you walked only at night.

And how fast you walked! Soon you were out of the search area but you didn’t stop, did you? No. You went on.

It’s been a week. You left them behind and you are still walking. They will not find you so easily now. You are going East, young one.

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