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True stories of women: my mother

Mine is an existence that shatters day after day.
I’m the leaves turning yellow every year more.
I’m the water that once flowed and now is forced to flee.
Shining with light that in the silence is blessed and in the opaque, human clamor becomes a sin.
Listen, then, my advice.
Don’t give up.
Not even at the ending, last word, to the fateful point, before the cruel closed door and behind the turned back by the only portion of humanity granted...

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