Before the bombs, this was the best place in all Spain. Nobody bothered us. Nobody even knew about us; we had no tourists. We had plenty of work, but when the crops were in we could say: "There's a bullfight in Madrid? Good, let's go to Madrid." Since the bombs fell, we've had one disaster after another. The water has gone bad. The orange trees have dried up. The tomatoes don't grow. I don't blame the bombs for everything. I don't blame any body. But life has gone from here. Within a few years, this village will be...
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