He is sitting in his small, almost empty, and lonely room without doing anything. The only things his room contains is his bed with a worn madras, a desk with a stool, and a little oil lamp, so he can read in his inherited old books about birds and plants.
He is sitting there at his desk and looks out of his tiny window. In the streets, he sees the many stalls with fruit, sausages, weird decoration thingummy, and many other mysterious and strange thingamabobs. Many people walk by the house all day. They look like ants from his window.
The boy, named Edbert, is sitting in his boredom and loneliness, but one ordinary day he thinks to himself: “I wonder how the great, big world looks like!” He is sure that it is probably like in the stories, his grandmother always told him, before she died. She told him stories about the gigantic woods with trees so high, you cannot even imagine how beautiful it is. She told about unsurpassable and phenomenal cities, not like this little village where he lives. Every night before he fell asleep, she always told him wonderful stories, but now he have to fall asleep to the sound of silence. Edbert is fourteen years old, and he has to live on this little lumber room because he cannot afford anything else.
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