The City of Dead.

A vegetable vendor was weighing a cabbage on a scales and put it in a basket dangling on a string a girl lowered from a balcony. The girl was identical with the one in my village who had gone made for love and killed herself. The vegetable vender raised her face: she was my grandmother.

I thought: "You reach a moment in life when, among the people you have known, the dead out number the living."

--Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities.

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The City of Dead.

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