As I walked into Jose’s home I was greeted by tinkering noises of shoe making. The smell of onions cooking in oil over a fire drifted under my nose. A thin dog maneuvered gracefully between all the legs and commotion as I maneuvered like a tall clumsy English-Irish type bumping my head on various structures and door frames.
'I tried as best as I could to fade into the...
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