Fernando M. Cimadevila

Sample

There was only a week to go before the start of the Christmas holidays when Peter found out that his holidays were going to be different this year. His parents had promised to pick him up that evening at six, but, as usual, they didn’t keep their promise. He waited for them at the gates to his boarding school for some time, watching how other boarders left school for the holidays, how the old iron gate closed and how night spread its cloak over the city. It was not one of those pleasant afternoons when you want to go for a walk in the park, but one of those wet and cold afternoons you get in winter when darkness devours the day before its time and the best spot in the whole world is next to the fireplace at home.

Peter sat waiting on a bench for hours and hours with a pile of suitcases next to him, his body shrinking from the cold as he hoped the small drop of rain that had just fallen on his nose was not the beginning of a downpour.

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