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Vienna, July 22, 1997
I gave Omama a camera with a large viewer. I always wanted one like it, she told me. Every time I come to see her at the home I develop her rolls of film and we look at them together. She takes pictures of the television, the flowers, the view from her window.
Today she said to me: It’s been a long time since I took a picture of myself in the mirror.
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