The everyday routine of Nefeli, in pieces: friendship, betrayal, love, hypocrisy, violence… If she was a writer, this book could have been written by her. "A long time ago, whenever a train passed, I always waved. I don't anymore. I stopped doing that. My enthusiasm is absent and my sadness is in excess," admits sixteen years old Nefeli. She goes through life "as a programmed hybrid": school-home-private teaching school, in search for her identity. Life is like discarded pieces of a puzzle or like notes in scattered pages. Fraternal conflicts, friendship, betrayal, love, the need to envision a future that "you do not call entirely your own". What does it matter if it's Spring? Everything surrounding her, everything inside her crumples; and this need of hers to visualize something better must stay alive even though, "suddenly, I realize I don't really know what the word 'future' means to me". But, damn it, even thought the world turns to shit, life is still beautiful. It can't be that there's nothing to inspire anymore... Behold, music and poetry come to light even the crudest and cruelest of lives. If you want to endure... to keep on hoping... to build your own fairy-tale and believe in it... to travel upon a cloud... to dream and have the right to live a life that you can call your own "with dignity and a touch of beauty".
