No one could tell just by looking at her.
Not even when her nose twitched as if a perfume had crossed her face.
Not even when she won the parents’ one hundred metre race at school sports day, even outstripping the man who was known for his running prowess and his talk of his latest race times.
Not even when she sometimes turned quickly on the spot, as if seeking something that had gone missing.
At the start of dusk, the sunlight turning the fields around her home to gold, she became the hare, racing the owls that flew overhead.
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