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Chapter 68 - 67: Root? More Like Uprooted
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... rong>
— Cesare Pavese
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[First Person POV]
I was eleven years old.
It was winter, and my village was buried under a deep blanket of snow.
We were farmers, but that year the rain had been too much, drowning the fields before they could yield. Our crop failed. What little we pulled from the fields had rotted before it ever reached the table, and the small amount of food we had stored would never las ...
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