Selina, cold, the coldness of hell. Her and genus Rosa shivered in the winters gelid wrath, perched underneath the bridge. Rosa clenched Magda to her breasts with fear, save Magda was sheltered by the shawl. Selina would hold the infant on occasion, but she was often prehensile of Magda. Selina was only fourteen and needed the warmth of a shawl to hold dear her from the world that had thrown her out. It was dusk, but under the bridge, the glorious shades of sunset were suppressed by the thick black detractor rising from the nearby factories. The city as a red-blooded was vibrant and lively lights turned on, streets bustling with the harmonious hurly burlys of commode moving and working pleasantly. Selina, Rosa, and Magda however, beneath the bridge, didnt know or care. The only life that Selina and Rosa knew before the bridge was maven of harlotry, drug dealing, loneliness, and poverty. Selina and Rosa lived with a friend in his apartment, until he was shot in a dr ive-by. They needed money in particular for supporting the baby Rosa would have. It had gotten in that post by rape, but Rosa wanted to keep it nonetheless. They turned again to prostitution and found themselves in trouble with a man named Mario. Mario peril to kill Selina one night, and the next day, her and Rosa fled to beneath the bridge.
They had lived there ever since, finding scraps of pabulum to satisfy Magdas weensy hunger, and occasionally to satisfy Stella and Magda as well. But Magda had the shawl, and that make all the difference. The shawl was magic. perchance it would save little Magda from suffer ing the akin fate as those who raised her. ! Perhaps not. The newborn sucked the shawl, and it unbroken her safe from the factory smoke, cigarette smoke, noise of the others residing under the bridge, and the looming bane that Mario would find Selina and Rosa. If you want to get a full essay, allege it on our website:
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