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URL:https://www.learndesk.us/class/5343086307704832/lesson/64e158fb85a3a31541f25cf0b64cb3c3?ref=outlook-calendar
SUMMARY:UNIT 13
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260501T190000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260501T200000
LOCATION:https://www.learndesk.us/class/5343086307704832/lesson/64e158fb85a3a31541f25cf0b64cb3c3?ref=outlook-calendar
DESCRIPTION: Excerpt from And All the Rattlesnakes are Forgiven by Georgia Manuela Delgado When I was a child, I could see ghosts. I could hear them too. ‘What’s your name? What did you die of?’ I asked a ghost one day. A nun, in her habit. ‘A broken heart, child.’ This nun I would talk to in the cemeteria. She would walk home with us sometimes, in the hot sun, while we stopped frequently to talk to people in the village. I was responsible for carrying the white lilies on the way, and carrying the beheaded, dead flowers on the way home for the rubbish. She wouldn’t come into your house. My bisavó was there and she was mean, even in the afterlife. Then she would go back to the cemeteria, I think, that’s always where I would find her again. There were lots of ghosts there, at the cemeteria. One ghost died in a fire, she would bake cakes in the convent bakery. She was particularly good at baking pastel de nata. She was always offering me cakes, but I could never see them. Her hands were terribly...

https://www.learndesk.us/class/5343086307704832/lesson/64e158fb85a3a31541f25cf0b64cb3c3?ref=outlook-calendar
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