TRULLA LOVE (work in progress)

DISCLAIMER: this book is literally a joke taken too far, some of us just never know when to stop.

It was on a rainy day in the spring of 1968, during a horse-rights protest, that our dear protagonists met.
The cold rain washed away their differences, and led their gazes towards each other. Lighting struck.
That was the glance that changed everything. That was the glance that changed the world.

Donald Trump was a boy. Ulla Randall was a girl. Can I make it any more obvious?
Yes, I can.
She was a devilishly angelic small-town girl, from a divided Germany. He was the awkward and orange future president of the United States (even though he was not that orange
at that time). What more can I say?
No need to say anything else. Read and see.