Little Russia
Little Russia
"They say that this place, where you are, was once under the sea. Then the water receded and left clay behind. A mountain of clay. And there were sandy marshes, with plants and trees. A park overlooking the valley. Now the sky is black and the smoke from the kilns covers everything. Millions of bricks are taking shape. A hundred years ago, the village of the kiln workers grew up around the chimneys. This is the Valley of Hell. And this is my home.
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\n(...)
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\nThen, one by one, the chimneys stop smoking. Many people leave. And one day the council bulldozers arrive. My father screams, then weeps as the houses in the village collapse as if they have been bombed. In their place, they give us new flats to rent, in the council buildings. Someone calls them “cardboard boxes”, as if a box could be twelve stories high. But I still have a brick from the room where I was born.
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\nToday, a wisp of smoke still rises from the heart of the old village. A bakery makes dozens of loaves of warm, crusty bread. But fresh bread, as we all know, quickly becomes hard and inedible."
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