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Yesterday afternoon I went to the town where my father was born. When I was a child I used to pass the summers there.
When I was six my parents bought a house, which is on the top of a little hill. My sister used to tell me fake stories about that house. She told me there was somebody living in my closet, and that there were witches, and that kind of stories people tell to his/her younger sister. But I was afraid of being alone there. But as time went by I started to apreciate that house, and now I think it has something special, I don't know why, but I feel very close to it
My expression in this photo it's not fake, I was really afraid. Last week there was fire near home, and I was so worried about losing that piece of life. At that moment I saw smoke very near.
finally the smoke dissapeared.