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  • When I was a six-year-old girl, I used to go to nursery class with my mum.
    Nearly every afternoon on the way back to home we used to do the shopping.
    There was a supermarket -which was counted as a big one- with an entresol.
    Even if we did not need to get something from the entresol I always made my mum take me there.
    Being there, was a kind of magic for me.
    But there was something more glamorous: Milk boxes!
    I was (was? still I am!) fascinated by them; buying the milk, taking it home, try to open the box -course with help-...
    It was all a ceremony.
    Years passed as usual and I realized that there were no milk boxes like I love.
    They were all unlovable rectangular prisms. So it became a broken dream for me.
    After 15 years some clever guy -I guess- brought them back. Now it's not hard to find my lovely.
    But in those sad days my friend Deniquo made a milk box brooch for me.
    Now I have a child's dream in my hands and it's the most fascinating of all.
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