I can’t tolerate the hot weather at all. I hate it! I don’t understand what people say in the hot weather, and I can’t talk. If you want to talk to me, make a date in the winter. I am not to blame.

The first time I heard about email was on the BBC program. I sent a letter. I think it took twenty days for the letter to be delivered. I didn’t know what email was. I thought it must be an electronic pocket with a metal board and a plug to switch it on, and then you could write with a pen. I thought maybe the pen was metal too. It seemed crazy that someone could receive mail in one minute from all around the world.

My dear brother and sister, Democracy is an unlucky bride in our country, because there are no good examples. It is our strange friend because we don’t know what Democracy is.

As we walked, I felt as if the trees were talking to me. I felt them say: “We feel you, Roya, we feel you!” There were some tired flowers too. The garden was like a desert without water or gardener. The weather was not so good; I felt it was nervous like me, with the wind throwing dust in our faces and eyes.