For me, I did not need much time to wake up from my childhood imaginations, and find me, by chance, specialized and sprayed inside a thick tissue of burlap carried by my mother. I was nine years old when my mother carried me on her limited back, away from all the dreams that I know, and walked to me towards the traveling rail east (Abyssinia). My mother did not want that time to make me ascend on her back and her neck was shed with both hands, as the boy usually does in a moment of recklessness, as it is the separate feet, and as I explained to me at the time, to increase the lack of my wounds; Therefore, she forced me to cry inside the lashes and then tightened me to her back, as the village men tightened barley bags, and I followed me an unfamiliar dirt path, preceded by a group of elderly men, women and children.
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