The world I grew up in was not built for dreaming. It was a place of long queues and short tempers, where the winters stretched on like unfinished sentences, and the summers were brief, almost apologetic interruptions of heat and…
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I grew up amongst books, although never knowing for sure whether it was a blessing or a burden. In those days, you didn’t choose what you read. You took what was given, what was printed, what had survived the censors,…
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