This story is only a comtinuation about the story of "I'm afraid to love him". Last Sunday he invited me to watched their show in the plaza. That show is a contest about the different services offered by our province including thier organization about plants.
Sleep is at my door, I hear him knocking. Blood is on my clothes a vessel it's popping. Death is close by becasue sleep is his cousin. Or is it death that is knocking telling me to answer his call.