Sep 18, 2019
Baba Maureen
ere is how Maureen remembers it. It was a weekend – and this she knows because she was not in school. She was eight years old, you see, and that is how eight-year-olds break down days of the week. Her father had just come back from another work trip, arrived the Friday evening before, then on that Saturday morning, he had left for the office. It was not uncommon for her father to be at work, or…
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