She makes a "pff" sound, pushing back her lower lip to brush the hair that tickles her nose. She half-heartedly swings her jump rope again. Every now and then, she wipes her very round, somewhat heavy face with the back of her hand or even the hem of her dress. And it's at that moment, when a piece of fabric is lifted in front of her face, that something pink passes by on the road. And when it's
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