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It’s quite in the morning
for the swing to be still tied. The people get out and do not come back till the nightfall Carrying milk and loafs in their bags. Sometimes their bags smell smoky. I greet them all at a time. The ones answering me know me. In a biology book I read: the smell after the summer rain makes us happier and fresh, that’s what they wrote in that book. Now the asphalt is wet rom the night storm and it’s summer, and I cannot feel anything.
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