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Weekly Contest #39
Looking up at the stars was a sacred moment for me back in the bright younger days. I remember asking Dad on one clement evening, why are there many torchlight in the sky? Dad smiled, curled my head, touched my cheeks and said, Son, they are not torchlight but stars, the sky is full of stars, he added. My father’s house is situated at the outskirts of my village. The compound is filled with variety of economic trees, an indication that my dad was a good farmer. The trees denied me the wide gaze I needed, to contentedly view the stars and scr...
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