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had seen in the market were small and dry and were sold in
grammes! There were so many on the bush. She ate the
berries she was holding and rushed to the bush. Luckily I
managed to reach her – she hadn’t noticed the sharp thorns
on the branches. We started to pick the blackberries, very
carefully, but we were short of time and I decided to empty
the jar and fill it with blackberries for Bibi to eat until we
got to the spring in the forest. With great effort I managed
to pull her off the bush. She had cleaned the branches
within her reach and looked at me so displeased, with her
nose and mouth red from the blackberries. I promised I
would pick some more on our way back home. We
continued on our way and I told her that when I was a child
we used to fill bottles with blackberries and sugar, and stir
it with a twig from a tree. We took it with us to the valleys
and woods and licked the twig every now and then while
wandering.
“Wait, don’t run.”
She didn’t care. I ran after her, caught her, ran a few more
steps with the momentum and stopped. I sat her on the
ground and kneeled down, putting my face very close to
hers so that she could feel the power of my gaze. She didn’t
utter a word. She smiled mischievously, looked directly into
my eyes and said, “There’s something on top of the
mountain, I won’t tell what it is.”