n to a house where women were only seen as tools to birth children, I was already in my twenties. I was standing on the crossroads of life. At my fingertips were close to fifty photos of different men. They were the marriage partner candidates my father had prepared.
ave a childhood friend. We did stupid things, made the adults angry, were put to cleaning the toilets together, complained it was a pain and went off to play, only to make them angry again. When we were kicked out to sleep in the shed, we made a ruckus all the way through the night, received the iron fist to the head, and grew older together. That friend became the hero and saved the world.