Una noche y pocos recuerdos
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Overview
The memory I describe is not real, but it is sincere. I don't even remember my father's voice, much less what his words sounded like. This immense forgetfulness holds many memories. Memories that are fractured, altered, and distorted. How many times have I dreamed of you, how many times have I tried to create the father who existed but whom I never knew...
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