“Thank you… Zax”. A middle aged woman with a combed black hair and a bit of weight around her waist walked toward him with hands down and holding one another.
“You shouldn’t, Mrs. Inoki ”. Zax shook his head. The woman was the mother of his childhood friends, Weysey Inoki.
Mrs. Inoki came to stand beside him, but her view was on the large group of children having the time of their life fighting the living snowmen. “Our home is at the periphery of us, newcomers’ huts. The hut next to us is where that ginger girl lives with her family”. She pointed for him to see. “Willy”, her nine years old, “Has a small crush on her, but is too timid to approach to other village’s children, much less try to speak with her”. She did not say more; only look how her youngest was now side by side with the gi
