Dear Esther (№ 329770)

When you were born, told me your mother in the delivery room was quiet. A large red birthmark blanket left part of your face. No one knew what to say, and you cried to fill the vacuum. I have always respected you for it: you cried to fill any vacuum that got. I also began to create a vacuum, so you could use your talent. Birthmark was reduced to six years and disappeared by the time when we met, but your fascination with the void and cure left.