Fiction | December 01, 2004
The Bride from the Village of Deaf-Mute
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“Mamye, how many times do I have to ask you to get rid of those Chickens?” Shrubek set the bags of groceries on the windowsill and stood to watch the five scrawny chickens scratching and pecking at the balcony, trying to unearth imaginary kernels from the concrete.
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