The Old Lodge
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With my entry on "The Old Lodge" I wanted to recall the days I lived in my childhood in a small house on the banks of a mighty river that separated the twin cities of the township where I was born.
"The Old Lodge" to which I refer was very cozy made of wooden logs that supported the columns, of zinc sheets that served as walls, it had no floor because the clay material was flattened to smooth out where to walk.
The roof was made of coconut palms, in that small house my mother took us every fifteen days to spend the weekends and distract us playing in the countryside.
Note
β° I used the virtual timer
e.ggtimer to write this piece.
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πππ Writing is full of beautiful episodes, see you next time friends....π₯π₯π₯