ABSTRACT
I first met Ambra when she was 20 years old: she was a tall, stout girl with a mass of long, golden hair. She had a pale, rather strange face, with a questioning look and expressionless eyes. She looked as if she came from Mars. Both the tone and inflection of her voice, the way she moved, and what she said all expressed violence and were intimidating. Her questions required immediate responses. Her body wanted to impose itself on others in spite of her neglected and scruffy appearance. Her arrogance and desire to prevail over others were constant.
