Delita wanted to fly. She dreamed of flying. And she was very beautiful. If you could see the photo. Afterward, if you want, I'll show it to you. I'll pass it underneath the door. But only if you promise me that you won't get it dirty or tear it, it is the only one I have. She was gorgeous, Delita, everyone who knew her said that. And so
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Makes me think of how much of the past has been discarded as a sacrifice to progress and growth, but the substance of those things that are given up may be worth more than what it is traded for.
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I'm really enjoying reading the piece, as well as translating it.
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