Fragments from books that don’t exist: Ona the Hater

onathehater

One fine spring morning, Ona’s maid Amalia decided they would go for a walk.

“I don’t want to go for a walk!” Ona declared.

“I promised your mama we would go outside,” Amalia said.

“I don’t care!” Ona put her hands on her hips, a sure sign she was not to be budged.

“It is a very fine spring morning,” Amalia said, gazing out the window at the estate’s lovely garden where the flowers were in bloom, the bumblebees were buzzing, and the bunnies were hopping happily hither and yon.

“I hate the spring,” Ona said. “And I hate the flowers. I hate everything.”

“I know,” Amalia sighed, and thought to herself “y el mundo entero te odia tambien”

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