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Chapter 36: the comber II

The whistle of the Scot pines in obedience to the soft flows of the wind, rising steadily at every second. The hours were lessening and soon this terrifying wind would occupy the whole North, leaving us stuck in the middle of no man's land.

Some dried leaves that had fallen from the short and bushy trees that enclosed us, scraped the ground in the direction and command of the same wind that seemed to be the governor of all our predestination.

Aside from the ease and relief I had felt when we had escaped once more from their sights, I was damn tired of being lucky all the time. I wished it to be all over as I had had enough of the constant threats and sprints to flee from the unbending enemy.

Now I had found Bashir and I had thought it would be the beginning of our triumph but instead he came bearing more disheartening news, leaving me the more depressed and dispirited.

"A moment of silence, A moment of summons," Bashir voiced, breaking through the tranquil and lonely
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