… “Para que nada nos separe, que nada nos una”…


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He appeared on this dirt road, walking with a bag in one hand and a cane in the other.
He sat down to rest. I walked up to him, he only spoke Mixe, I asked him if I could do his portrait.
I would never get that old I thought to myself.
How many stories could this man tell me ?
If only, we both had enough time left

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