Flowers for the dead
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It's like clockwork. Every saturday, at ten, the same old man enters the cemetery at the outskirt of the village with flowers in his hand.
This is my first story in English (obviously not my birth language) so let's give it a try.
I have absolutely no idea where this is going.
Seluruh Hak Cipta Dilindungi Undang-Undang
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