Yo hablo español
January 26th 2007 If you closed your eyes you could almost hear the faint echo of footsteps along 9000-year-old stonewalls. The scent of orange oil permeated the air floating delicately from the fruits hanging off the trees. It was a meandering stroll, passing ancient graves, lush greens, and places where spots were worn on the floor from prayer long ago. It held a ghost like quality, carrying a soft chill on your
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