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The small town resounded with whistling and shouting. The smell of stewing, the smell of frying, the smell of boiling.
Mr. Dykhes had sold all his defective soap to the army.
Mus…
…They landed in Lod at night, on the eve of the Day of Judgment.
After lengthy procedures at the airport (a bureaucrat-girl with the same heavy accent, just as tired and pale, couldn’t understand, for…