The Casa/The complex

"I'm sorry!" you exclaim. grabbing the child's shoulders to steady it. Its hand has gone up to its face holds its nose tenderly.

You are startled by the girls obvious smallness in your hands. You release her shoulders after only a little too long.

"What is your name?" You ask. The girl glares at you but decides she must answer.

"Clara" She says.

"Wonderful!" you reply "You are just who Mr. Kent told me to find. He says he must go into town and asks that you show me around your home. Can you do that for me please, Clara?" You have trouble keeping your tone of voice consistent through all of this, and hope that Clara's social senses are still somewhat dulled with youth. To your relief she seem to accept this and turns to cross the grass towards the other buildings.

Watching her walk before you is a maddening delight. The soft fabric of her dress plays lightly with the wind and by its movement you are sure that she wears nothing else. Her beautiful, sun-ready skin turns your stomach to look at.

"Clara," you ask "what are your favorite things to do?" Clara skipped a little as she thought.

"Drawing, coloring, painting," she paused, "and singing!" she said, happily.

"What about dancing?" you ask.

"Yes, I looove dancing." she enamors.

"What about now? In this field? It is all so beautiful."

"Yes!" she says, jumping, then begins to twirl and twist, pushing her small hips from one extreme to the other. The hem of her dress floats up her thigh for precious, tantalizing seconds.