“I hate things! I hate all things! I hate and hate every single tiniest thing. I hate the world.” said Fuchsia aloud, raising herself on her elbows, her face to the sky.
“I shall live alone. Always alone. In a house, or in a tree.”
Fuchsia started to chew at a fresh grass blade.
“Someone will come then, if I live alone. Someone from another kind of world - a new world - not from this world, but someone who is different, and he will fall in love with me at once because I live alone and aren’t like the other beastly things in this world, and he’ll enjoy having me because of my pride.”