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Robert  was digging  a pipe in the courtyard. In a few days, he had transformed the landscape.

To see him dig  in the  elongated hole, it was hard not to see a man there  digging her  grave.  The title came naturally, one day when I saw it coming out painfully.

The blue plastic barrels, picked up by Robert  had accumulated that summer. He  sometimes fish them out when they drift on the river.  If the court is  its temple, the barrels form its pillars.

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