Once upon a time one of those grey days of drizzle, that what soaks to the bones and wets your heart among shivers. Maybe it was cold or perhaps she was who seems a iceberg in her mind. It was late when she approached to that taciturn boy and with evil smile she let out him without beating around the bush —What are you thinking? —fixing him intensely the look. He thought «what a strange girl!»… but he bowed his head and with the half smile that she returned him, he answered her — so I don’t know… about nothing —. And she, with her furrowed brow and surprised face, said him —Anything? How are you thinking about nothing? That’s impossible… —. He, with excessive calm, answered —Yes I can —. She muttered —nooo. And he, controling his anger, replied —Yes I can… because I think about you and you’re my void. She was left without words and for not having words this story was over, the hungry partridges ate the happy ending.