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Weekly Contest #348
INTRODUCTION I was told from a young age that my given name was Dalit. I had never known my parents, but the name had provoked a bad omen on my life. Dalit means broken. Outcast. All I knew of my mother was that she had been beautiful. Her skin had shone like a brown sun on a dark bronze horizon. Her eyes had been a deep crystal blue; icy and bold. My father was an english man. He had not loved my mother. I knew this only because my grandmother had told me. She was my only kin. My mother had died giving birth to me. My father, ashamed of ...
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