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Sensitivity was born by chance one night in April 1997. A street in the hills, a house with the windows just lit a lamp with a light that bathes unlikely a piece of wall and an empty bench. A dog barking in the distance, the caress of "Phoen" (that hot dry wind, typical of some areas of the north behind the mountains), a sound of distant bells, noises here and there, of "things" moved by wind and the face of a woman. Her hair lit by the moon, these embroideries that caress the wind as he passed, his eyes returned to the night sky the color of the most intense ... her perfume or the scent of a magical night ... but dreams fade away like stains washed by the light of 'Aurora. This story, from dusk till dawn, is collected here. Good listening!
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