I stretch my arm out, carefully. "Who are you?," I ask.

The being looks puzzled, in awe and disbelief of that question. "Why are you asking me that? Don't you see that I am a hideous creation? Are you not afraid of me?"

My fingers curl around his gigantic hand. His skin feels rough and there is dirt between his knuckles. He shudders, but it feels more like he is shaking. His watery eyes are fixed on my tiny hand on his.

"No. Why should I? You haven't done anything to hurt me."

He looks up and lays his palm on the back of my head for a moment, sheltering me in it.

"I have never met anyone like you," he says. "Every person I have encountered treated me with loathing." He may be eight feet tall, but right in this moment, with his shoulders falling and his head sinking down on his chest, he looked like a small child.

"You," I whisper, "should only meet people like me." I try a small smile. "You don't deserve to be treated as something you are not." He doesn't believe me. I can tell from the way he is not meeting my eyes, staring at a spot behind my shoulder. "They are the monsters. Not you." He looks up, drinks the truth from my eyes as if only I had stored it there. "You are not a monster."

I think he has never smiled in his life. He has trouble controlling the muscles around his lips, in his cheeks. He has never smiled, because he never needed to. There was no reason.

"So. What's your name?"

He straightens up a bit and says: "I do not think I have a name."

"Okay. Then we need to change that," I say. "What name do you like?"

When he answers, he seems to do so with much consideration. "I have read… a lot during the time of my being. There was one book that spoke to me most." He hesitates. "The name of the main character is Adam. I think that is the name I wish to assume."

"Well," I can feel warmth spread on my cheeks. "I can't wait to hear all about you, Adam. What books have you read yet?"

He tries another smile, broader this time, and I can see him growing more and more excited.