Fio's thinking that even if she were the only one in the world with a head cold, it would still be enough to keep Kleenex Inc. afloat. Yes, she's got it that bad--a sneeze every other minute and plenty of snorts in between.
Fiorella will admit that she went downhill after the flaming stomach episode. It's scary when you've been talking since babyhood and suddenly your throat won't let you utter anything louder than a whisper and, to make it even more frightening, no one seems to care. But since no help was on hand, your girl decided to cling to her somewhat dimming belief in herself and after a day of brooding, steeled herself, moved forward, and pasted back together the tired box of a set of books she hopes to sell.
Another hiccup--that little red toolbox that Fiorella brought with her from all her former homes has disappeared.
Fio is going to retire to her piano now, but as she thinks she told you, she's got a problem there too. The thumb of her left hand has been injured in and she has to wrap a band-aid round it in order to play.
Anyone who's invested in Kleenex is making a fortune off Fiorella. Your girl can't wait till her knee operation is over and she can seek out a doctor who can fix that constantly runny nose she's always complaining about.
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