Stories of my sisters
The beginning was always a very good place to start, or so I thought. Each time I returned to that old house at the end of the road, memories would overtake me of my childhood and the times we spent together. The last time we met here was after our mother passed away several years ago. We recalled with a mix of sadness and joy the life we had spent on that quiet farm, not far from the big city, but just far enough.
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