Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nonfiction, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tanka - 5,7,5,7,7 syllables, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 2 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – Tankas – “Recipes and Baking” #amwriting #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is a poem inspired by, or in the form of, a recipe! It can be a recipe for something real, like your grandmother’s lemon chiffon cake, or for something imaginary, like a love potion or a spell. The quote was is by Bob Spitz for B about Julia Child’sand her  cooking for the A to Z Challenge.

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Credit: http://www.dreamstime.com

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“The cooking was invigorating, joyous. For Julia, the cooking fulfilled the promises that Le Cordon Bleu had made but never kept. Where Le Cordon Bleu always remained rooted in the dogma of French cuisine, Julia strove to infuse its rigors with new possibilities and pleasures. It must have felt liberating for her to deconstruct Carême and Escoffier, respecting the traditions and technique while correcting the oversight. “To her,” as a noted food writer indicated, “French culinary tradition was a frontier, not a religion.” If a legendary recipe could be improved upon, then let the gods beware.” 

― Bob Spitz, Dearie: The Remarkable Life of Julia Child

———–

Recipes we shared,

How to make it through the day;

Standing up for those–

Requiring a healing—

Touch: letting yourself let go.

——–

Is there a recipe,

A formulation for life?

Mixing ingredients,

Brown sugar, eggs, vanilla.

Soda or powder to rise.

——–

Bakings a pastime,

In the kitchen with great-grandma,

Then with my grandma.

Later baking confections,

With my Mom and her methods.

——-

One starts to know what,

Each person loves best,

Correctly; knowing —

Small portions grow bigger; the —

Scent of cinnamon inhaled.

——-

On some occasions,

A person needs to bake sweet cookies.

Decadent brownies,

During the holidays with,

Rich chocolate icing too.

——–

Baking has taught me,

Life’s no slice of mouth-watering

Chocolate cake, but there —

Are times when a recipe,

Is what gets you through.

—–

Endorphins, sugar,

A wretched day can be healed.

There’s a tomorrow,

Chocolate means it’s looking up,

One more day you can get through.

———-


——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Wrapped Refrain, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Wrapped Refrain(2) – ” The Perks of Floating” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the photo prompt challenge.


Credit: Josh Hayes

 

I have a great deal of trouble staying straight up grounded,

If you got to know me, you’d see at times I feel confounding.

I don’t understand it myself,

But imagination is wealth.

So I know it’s okay to fly,

Up into the grayish sky.

Because I know how to make black and white turn colorful,

I can make a life of gray tones light so wonderfully.

——

It’s not that I’m anything unusual, different,

Then anybody else or even those who write proficiently.

But anyone who inks the page,

Knows what writers create engaged,

It’s exciting, magical,

Uplifting, and illogical.

The writer illustrates, cuts, folds, does the restitching —

Of stories; ripping out seams until what is left enriches.

——

It’s not easy to comprehend the scribbles and —

You find delicious cake baked, chocolate rich and grand,

Icing so sweet, flavor melding,

A creation vivid felt.

Picture perfect, read with pride,

And more delightfulness resides,

Hidden inside these golden words so captivating,

Intoxicating, ethereal, rising enraptured.

——-

Perhaps it’s not clear, why I let a balloon carry me floating,

It’s just, I’m seduced by language, writing, hopeful words wrote.

So protecting myself from —

Life’s elements thrumming,

Inside me, around me — I’m safe,

Despite trolls, odd notes of hatred.

I keep honing my craft, in my prettiest flats,

My comfortable wool coat; the writing it lifts me enwrapped.

——-

I let the fates lead me where the wind blows me, knowing,

I could be entrenched in editing woes, left moaning.

But I keep going with my muse,

Taking all of her abuses.

‘Cause they teach me burying —

My secrets, is so worrying.

My inspirations keep the balloon drifting, rising,

I have a great deal of trouble, but my writing makes me smile, surviving.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: A Chocolate Seduction #amwriting #flashfiction #100WordWednesday  


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesdays. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl

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Sweet dark chocolate slides across my tongue, the richness of chocolate icing soft and creamy; the moist cake, competing for flavour with the icing. It’s sweetness allows one to eat it slowly. Too much cake at once would ruin the experience and leave me with an upset stomach. But each bite savoured with pleasure and a bit of vanilla ice cream, ensures my scrumptious chocolate cake is a heavenly experience. 

Across the table you wink, you knew it was my favourite cake and you ordered it for me. Our eyes hold as you eat your own cake and I absorb every ounce of chocolate flavour in mine; eating cake becomes seduction

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Synchronicity Poetry - 8,8,2, -- surprise ending last 2 stanzas, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Synchronicity – “Safe” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry #BellLetsTalk


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt which is: a story through the eyes of a child. 

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Credit: UnSplash

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Mommy you let go my hand, I’m quick–

Mere seconds pass, I’m laughing freely, 

I run. 

—–

Mommy, I’m giggling what it is —

Feeling free, everyone looks at me, 

Smiling.

—–

Down the aisles of Superstore, 

You’ve lost me, can you find me now? 

I’m fast.

——-

Boxes, packages to pull down, 

Grinning, happy, into candy, 

Sitting —

——-

Waiting for me on the shelf are —

My favourite chocolate and gummies;

Mommy? 

——

Where’d you go? I think I’m lost, 

I’m scrunching my face, tears begin, 

Where’d you —

——-

Go? Mommy; don’t leave me here now, 

Some lady grabbed my hand and —

It hurts.

——

She won’t let go, dragging me off, 

Stranger danger; no one helps me,

Let Go! 

*****

It’s okay now, Mommy is here

Holding you close, grabbing your hand;

She runs.

——

Scared I’ll turn her in and I should, 

Who tries to kidnap a child in —

Daylight? —

——–

 At all? Cannot trust, stay near me, 

Now you know why and you’re safe, 

From harm.

—–

Mommy will never let you go, 

Her precious boy, her sweet sunshine, 

Is hers.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
 

Current Events, Flash Fiction, History, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Italian Sonnet “The Holiday Spirit” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

——

(Written Christmas Day)

Though times they change and we move on in life, 

We cannot say at Christmas, we’re not blessed

Food to eat, fine company, we confess —

To much chocolate, many sweets, little strife; 

Compared to the state of many a place ripe, 

With destruction, death, such hate which festers

To much is wrong, but be at peace nonetheless. 

His time draws near, have cheer; lasting hurt wiped. 

Peace on earth, goodwill to all mankind, let’s —

Be kind to our neighbours and remember to share, 

Life is tough, let no one be in despair

Let us share the good news, for He is born set —

Healing broken hearts and pains of the past bled, 

Great physician who taught, love each other, care

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Poem -Day 24 – Italian Sonnet – “The Blame”


This days song prompt is “Buses and Trains” by Bachelor Girls.


“Buses and Trains” – Bachelor Girls


woman-hiding
http://www.pinterest.com

Mom, you didn’t say, how cruel the world is,

I could blame you for it all, but I’m grown.

Teach me, I could’ve learned by your grace known.

Each day I’m run down by trains, it’s fun this–

Game; ears ringing from sound trains make hissing.

Or a bus in front of me is coming, near miss —

Only by seconds I’m safe, empty words moan.

Why do I being pulverized feel sewn

Together a quilt, with all pieces, its bliss.

How do I explain I needed guidance?

It hurts me, you decided, gave me up.

 Without your words, boys became as chocolate,

Choosing the worst, failing being grown-up.

Addicted, inhaling them, drug sate.

You could’ve taught me better, it’s too late.


img_2951-22


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Ghazal, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 27 – Ghazal – “Scent Divine” #amwriting #poetry 


Day 27 Prompt: Favorite Scent

“Fragrance is a powerful thing. It can bring you back to your favorite meal your mother used to make, to your first kiss, to any number of events in your life. Free write for 10 minutes and see where your nose leads you, if your words need some encouragement, walk outside, down the street, through a mall, through a forest until your nose reminds you and the words begin to flow.” 
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http://www.kesuada.com

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Scent of cinnamon, apple pie freshly made, divine,

Fresh bread, spice cookies, shortbread, chocolate craved divine

——

Easter ham glazed with pineapple rings, smoked, homemade.

Perogies, bacon, onion, soft sating divine

——

Walking outside after it rains, pine scent invades

Deep breath, acrid wonderful smell nature divine

——-

Puppies and kitties, newborn babes, a scent persudes

Love, care for, feed and adore, keep safe those divine. 

——–

Incense in churches, candles burning, chants disuade

Wine strong, broken bread, prayers with coffee wake the divine

———

Ghazal: 

“A Ghazal is a poem that is made up like an odd numbered chain of couplets, where each couplet is an independent poem. It should be natural to put a comma at the end of the first line. The Ghazal has a refrain of one to three words that repeat, and an inline rhyme that preceedes the refrain. Lines 1 and 2, then every second line, has this refrain and inline rhyme, and the last couplet should refer to the authors pen-name… The rhyming scheme is AA bA cA dA eA etc.”

Please see Shadow Poetry for further information 

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Travel, Writing

Tale Weavers: Fiction –  “When Mom Was Taken” #amwriting #fiction #travel #taleweaver 


Thank to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this #Taleweavers photo challenge.The theme is lost in a foreign land. 

——-

Credit: Mara Eastern – Used with Permission.

——-

“Madam, you and your children need to come with me,” a police officer stated. He was from the police nationale. 

Mom gazed up at him and asked: “Why, what have we done? We’ve only been sightseeing here on vacation. We have our passports and travel Visas.” 

“If you come with me, right now, this will be much easier,” the officer said. I shivered at his cold impersonal accented tone.

My Mom attempted to speak but the officer squeezed her arm tightly and picking her up, deposited her in the back if his police car. 

My sisters and I peered up at the officer scared spitless. “We didn’t do anything,” I said. “I’m twelve and my two sisters are ten-years old twins. We aren’t bad kids.” 

The officer nodded at me. I could hear my Mom crying and banging her hands against the window in the police car. My sisters Paige and Monique were crying silently. 

 “What’s your name Cher?” The officer asked me. His French accent was thick when he spoke English. 

“I’m Brianne, what did my Mom do?” The officer didn’t say anything, but he nodded to one of his fellow officers.

“We need to talk to your Mom about some things for a while. This is officer Carson, he’s going to take you back to your hotel. You girls can watch movies and swim in the pool. Don’t leave and always ask Carson when you want to do something. He’ll take you for repas du soir later on,” the officer said. He smiled at me and I could tell his smile was forced. 

“But our Mom . . .” Paige and Monique whined. It was no use. Officer Carson herded us into his vehicle and drove us back to the hotel we were staying with our Mom.

We played in the pool, pretending we enjoyed it. We watched three movies on pay-per-view and then some cartoons on TV. We played on our Mom’s tablet, emailing our Uncle Reese and asking what we should do. The message always came back to Mom’s email, saying the email address was wrong, but we knew better.

At 4:00 pm Officer Carson came back from the gift shop with chips, popcorn, pop, and chocolate bars. Paige and Monique were happy to eat what they could; mom didn’t let us have much junk food, even on vacation. I had a square of delicious Belgian chocolate and almost threw-up. 

Later around 8:00 pm, Carson told us to put on nice clothes for dinner. We dined at a trendy restaurant and the food was magnifique. By this time the smell of the delicious food in the restaurant and my hunger had surpassed the twisted and nauseous feeling in my stomach. 

“My Mom, what if she can’t afford all this?” I asked Carson referring to all we’d done so far. Our family had scrounged and saved to travel to a few countries in Europe this year. Mom thought it was vital for us to have the experience traveling to see history, and other cultures. 

Officer Carson appeared thoughtful. “It’s okay Brianne. Ne tu inquites pas. We’ll take care of things until your Mom returns. I nodded. I didn’t know what else to say. 

That night we went to bed sleeping fitfully. The next morning Carson awoke us and told us we would be sightseeing today. He told us about various places we could visit and let us choose a couple of them to see. We went to the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower. We didn’t have to wait in line at all; we immediately were able to see what we wanted first. 

The four of us continued site seeing for the next week, never seeing our Mom. We always went out to dinner at a different restaurant each night to dine. Carson enjoyed eating well. 

One day, Carson even took us to H&M and some clothing stores for girls our age and let us each have one-hundred-and-fifty Euros to shop. We didn’t question Carson on this, even though it was a lot of money to us. We decided to spend eighty Euros and save the rest of the money for emergency. 

Caron seemed to know, “Vous etes des files intelligences pour economiser de l’argent. Bon les files.” He smiled at us, a rare occurence. We understood a bit of French from school and found ourselves picking it more with Carson. He brought us back to the hotel to spend the rest of the day watching movies and swimming. 

Three-weeks later our Mom returned. We cried when we saw her. I thought I’d never see her again and I gathered Paige and Monique thought the same. 

Mom appeared awful, unkept, and waif thin. She immediately went to bed, waking up in the middle of the night to shower. A wardrobe of various designer clothes and shoes was later delivered to her that week and Carson handed her a cheque for a large amount of money. My Mom’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. 

“For all your troubles Madam,” Carson told her and disappeared; we never saw him again. 

After Mom recovered for a couple of weeks, she decided we should continue to travel. A Doctor which had come to see her every two-days declared her fit and well. 

“Now that we have the money, we can travel throughout Europe and see many countries, not only three,” Mom told us. She smiled almost like her old-self and arranged for us to go everywhere we  wanted and stay in nice hotels. 

Later I thought back to this and realized Mom was running from the demons chasing her inside, from her nightmares, and her flashbacks. 

On a beach in Grenada, Spain, Mom finally said: “Girls I suppose it’s time we go home, you’ve missed a month of school already.” 

We didn’t want to leave. We were worried about or Mom. She hadn’t been the same person since the police first took her away. 

I’d given her space and only asked once or twice what happened to her. She ignored me. She wouldn’t talk to Paige or Monique either.

” I can’t tell you. That’s why we’ve so much money now Brianne,” she finally said to me.

——

Years later, I’m thirty-six and visiting my Mom. She is paging through a scrapbook of our European vacation. 

“You never said,” I began,”You never told me or anyone what happened to you in France. I know the memories give you nightmares still. What did the French police do to you Mom?” 

To my surprise she answered me. “Your Dad, you never knew him. I divorced him when you were only three-years-old and the twins one-years-old. He was a bad person, involved in things even in Europe which were awful and illegal.” A tear slipped out my Mom’s eye.

“When we came through France, they thought I was there to see your Dad. They promised they wouldn’t hurt my daughters but treat them well, if I told them everything I knew about your Dad. I told them I hadn’t seen him in almost ten-years that he was a terrible low-life, wanted across the North America.” 

“They wanted more. The police thought I had to be in contact with him. They were sure I was here to see him. For a week they tortured me, wouldn’t let me sleep, and other worse things. Eventually, they believed me and promised to let me go if I helped catch your Dad and draw him out from hiding so they could arrest him. Their plan worked, your Dad’s locked up forever,” my Mom said. 

“Mom, how could you not say anything all these years? How did you manage to travel around Europe after being . . .” 

She cut me off. “Money Brianne. Millions and millions in US funds. Enough to send my three daughters to the best universities and give you everything I couldn’t before. Enough money to wipe out the misery of that time in my life.” 

“Did it work? I asked my Mom.

She sighed tears forming, “It’s money Brianne. It makes things better and hides the truth. But in the end, the truth of what I went through is always there behind my eyes when I close them. I’m thankful Carson took care of you Brianne and Paige and Monique. He treated you well as the police promised he would. Above all, I was grateful and am grateful for that.” 

Mom closed her eyes and the tears continued to streak down her cheeks. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Three Line Tales, Writing

Three Line Tales: A Letter To Whomever Brought the Cupcakes #amwriting #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of 100 Words or Less for hosting 3 Line Tales.

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Stephanie McCabe

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To Whom It May Concern:

1. Wow, you’ve brought scrumptious, mouth watering, sinfully fattening, cupcakes to work, however; there’s a problem or three with the cupcakes you’ve bought to share; first of all, the cupcakes are small, if you’re going to allow us all to indulge in a cupcake, at least make the cupcake full size, not mini; cupcake are not a delicious treat most of us have often so please, don’t leave us wanting more ( a second cupcake) when you’ve only brought enough for one each.

2. The second issue I have is, your cupcakes aren’t chocolate; a most grevious error on your part, I don’t know who decides to bring cupcakes to work and doesn’t buy chocolate ones; chocolate is beloved by the majority of people and vanilla is boring (even if it vanilla does smell delightful), vanilla isn’t chocolate, it can’t compare; you’ve unknowingly offended at least all the females in our work area by bringing cupcakes which aren’t chocolate; in fact, I’d say my day is ruined, having seen the cupcakes and realized, they weren’t chocolate or even chocolate iced.

3. My third issue has to do with the icing on the cupcakes; I understand, you’re not the baker and you don’t ice the cupcakes yourself, but the icing is the best part of the cupcake; a slightly stale cupcake can get away with being stale, if the icing is to die for; vanilla icing could be satisfying but again, chocolate would have clearly, been the wiser icing choice; as well as choosing cupcakes which were “fully” iced; the baker’s icing style has much to be desired because the baker did not ice to the end of the cupcake, to the cupcake paper edge; icing is the most imperative aspect of a superb cupcake, perhaps, in the future, when you visit this cupcake bakery again, you will choose cupcakes with more icing; while the icing was delicious, there was far to little of it.

 I’m no cupcake expert, but I know what I like when I taste it.

Sincerely, 

Anonymous 

Lists, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Travel, Writing

A List of Ways I Show Love to the People I Love and A List of the Small Ways I Celebrate in Life.


Thanks to La Duchesse D’erat for the list prompts this week:

A. How we show love to the people we love

B. How we celebrate.

—–

Showing Love

1. I buy flowers for the women in my life (flowers they would like) such as my Mom, friend, or Godmother every now and then so they feel appreciated and because some of them don’t receive flowers from their husbands often.

2. I buy sweet treats for some of people in my life such as my brothers, Dad, Mom, and friends. Favourites are Gluten Free Macaroon cookies from Cookies by George or Gluten Free cupcakes of any flavour for my Dad. Everyone else enjoys Purdy’s Mint Melties, Hedge Hogs, Sweet Georgia Browns, Plane Milk Chocolate, or Coconut Cream Chocolate bars. Cupcakes, mainly chocolate ones work too.

3. I send notes in the mail to my Grandmas who I can’t see as often as I wish. I wrote my Grandma Reeder a poem and mailed it to her and I try to remember my Grandmas on their Birthday’s and at Christmas time, with a card and a treat when we visit.

4. I spoil my bestfriends with birthday presents such as giftcards to stores they would enjoy, makeup they would like, or a mixture of items that are about their tastes. I try to visit my friends as best as I can but it’s always nice to be remembered on your birthday. Wine works great, a nice red wine does the trick! 

5. I bake treats sometimes like chocolate fudge brownies, rhubarb cake, chocolate turtle squares, chocolate chip cookies, and apple sauce branmuffins for my family to enjoy.

6. I do extra cleaning at home or I try to remember to do a job the way my parents like the job to be done. 

7. Once in a while, I take a family member, friend, or favourite date out for dinner and pay for it, whatever they like to eat including drinks and dessert. I trust these people so I know they won’t go overboard.

8. I talk with friends family often and I listen well and let them say whatever they need to say. If they’re looking for input, I give thoughtful input. I’m also complimentary when I talk to people, trying to find good and nice aspects about them. It’s much easier to get along with people when they don’t see you as a threat or competition. This being said, I’m honest if they truly want my opinion or they are hurtful to me; I’m no doormat.

9. I pray for everyone I can remember at night. Everyone needs prayer and I don’t always remember those I need to remember, but I attempt to get everyone in my prayer. I pray for those people who make my life miserable too because at times the best way to deal with them is to pray for them.

10. I share my faith in Christ and God in my writing, and I try to show my faith in my actions and voice. By no means am I perfect, and I miss many chances to witness but I try and the Holy Spirit guides me. If you have something that is utterly life changing and gives hope you want to share it. 

———-

Celebrating 

1. Well into my twenties, I would celebrate the end of the week, stress from work, and or school, by going out and drinking and dancing; especially, after midterms or finals. These days, I feel a two-day hangover is not worth it. When I was younger it only took a morning to bounce back, but two or three glasses of wine with the ladies is divine, with the occasional night out to dance.

2. I will get dessert when I go out for supper. Something that is chocolate cake with Carmel sauce and ice cream if the dessert menu is sufficient. I usually never order dessert otherwise.

3. I go out and do something with a friend(s) whether that be dancing, supper, drinks, movies, coffee, yoga, brunch, or walking. It’s fantastic to be with your favourite people and share your good news in a great conversation.

4. I shop or plan to shop for a new outfit or cute shoes if I’m able.

5. If I’m only giving myself a small reward, I will go buy myself a package of Three Lindt chocolate balls or an ice cream sandwich. I suppose I’m too motivated by food.

6. I go on vacation, celebrating each year and all it’s trials and good times too. Doesn’t have to be anywhere big, only a week in a fresh city with new things to do and see.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.