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Chapter 22 -::If Only Forgetting Was Easy
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There was the same old cold inside the house - like every day.
Papa was sitting on the table, with the newspaper in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on the tiffin - as if the time of the tiffin was more important to him than every word of the newspaper.Brothers and sisters were running here and there, and from downstairs, Mummy's voice echoed,
"Get up, it will be late!"
I looked at the ceiling with sleepy eyes.
There are some mornings... which never change. ...
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