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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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