Letters to the River

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2026-06-18 05:12:35 -

Dearest Māmā, I am writing this on a piece of scrap paper I found in the community centre, before the world decided we couldn't stay here anymore. I can still hear your voice in the quiet parts of the afternoon, that low, humming melody you used to sing when the rain hit the windows of our old house. I sing it now, Māmā. I sing it so loud that I can almost feel you standing behind me, your hand...

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