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Those little spaces where time seems suspended for us to dream about are here so children, even after the became adults, can imagine that everything is possible.
Those huts are telling stories in a whisper and hide their secrets in a corner of the room, behind a book lined up on a bookshelf or under a carpet full of dust. Sometimes, at night, in our dreams, we see those houses drifting with the flow, on
top of their high stilts, longing to reach the sea one day.

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