Aenid
The street was filled with people going about their business. The dampened, cool breeze carried a strong odor of a detergent and everywhere one could look, clothe-lines sagged from heavy loads of slowly drying garments. The kids in patched up, yet bright outfits roamed through the street, yelling at one another and playing games of various kind. Their mothers occupied themselves by washing windows, sweeping their porches or making stacks of dried up clothe inside …
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