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On rainy afternoons, embroidering with a group of friends on the begonia porch, she would lose the thread of the conversation and a tear of nostalgia would salt her palate when she saw the strips of damp earth and the piles of mud that the earthworms had pushed up in the garden.
—
One Hundred Years of Solitude
(book)
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
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| Language: | English |
| Submitted by: | deroche1 |
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