Tomorrow is the word. Tomorrow was always the word, for Faustino.
They know they've stopped being kids. He just can't work out when that happened.
Faustino shrugs.
-I guess tomorrow finally came.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. It was Faustino's word before he and Arturo even met. It was his father's word even before Faustino was born. Back home, in Guatemala, his father used to say it to his mother: tomorrow I will get a job. Tomorrow I will mend the roof. Tomorrow everything will be okay. And Faustino's mother would roll her eyes and moan and love her husband anyway. They survived in La Limonada, picking scraps from the garbage dump, reselling what they could, along with sixty thousand other people crammed into the teetering ravine that cuts almost to the heart of Guate.
One day, Faustino was born, and then his father taught him the word too: tomorrow we'll go to the park and play football, tomorrow I'll find you a bike, tomorrow I'll show you how to ride it.
As Faustino grew, however, something changed in his father, and the word changed too. It actually began to mean something, and finally, one day, Faustino's father said to Faustino's mother- We cannot stay here anymore.
- Find and copy one word that means 'full to the point of overflowing'.
- What impression do you get of Faustino's father?
- What evidence is there that Faustino's home life was unstable?
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