Under his pillow this morning by the bed: a handful of rubber bands, each with a color and a different form, pass them on the wrist, some from Boston, others were donated by a assiduous friend, two tiny plastic lemur standing on their legs, a boar plastic that fits in the hand is actuated by a bolt head on his back and a small blue box with lid transparent, barely bigger than a dice, is the box of Mexican jumping beans that turn into butterflies at the end of winter. I patted the pillow that I place on the collection.
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