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My mother died slowly before actually dying. She was in the living room, occasionally appearing quietly in a light blue bathrobe. HUNT WIFE MOST PATIENT MARRIED TO THE DEDICATED HUNTER. Once, when she walked past me in the corridor on the way to the bathroom, she stopped to stroke my hair. She said nothing. She looked at me as if she was standing on the platform between a dry flat country, and the train waited for me to move the cake to go to a world on the high mountains.
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