The dove

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I hear a gunshot. Another one. No! No! Two more. They resonate in my head. My head makes them think. A bird falls, a dove. Quickly, it is followed by two eggs. One contains a woman, the other contains a flame. Both eggs break. The dove seems to be bleeding. Green. Green. Green. Shh! Shh! The wind is blowing in my neck the sweet words of the past.

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