One of those perfect skies without a cloud in sight.
Project Playground mansion.
We could see at a distance she was playing solitary.
Something clearly subdued her. She was troubled and withdrawn, as if caught in slow-motion.
Someone had taken a punch to her tiny face. A really nasty one, her left eye was black.
One of us picked her up, held her and just hugged her for a while.
She was still and did not speak.
As we asked "Who did this to you? You can tell us. It's OK" she lowered her little head, looked away and merely whispered:
"I am not ready to tell. But I know I can..."
The world of this little troll had stopped turning.
One ugly weekend in the township.
The rest of the world just kept turning.