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Chapter 27

           "Whatwasthelastword?"themanwithhischinonthegroundasked.

           "Vencer,"theboysaid."Win."

           "Mierda,"themanwithhischinonthegroundsaid.

           "Thereisanotherthatappliestohere,"Joaquínsaid,bringingthemoutasthoughtheyweretalismans,"Pasionariasaysitisbettertodieonyourfeetthantoliveonyourknees."

           "Mierdaagain,"themansaidandanothermansaid,overhisshoulder,"We’reonourbellies,notourknees."

           "Thou.Communist.DoyouknowyourPasionariahasasonthyageinRussiasincethestartofthemovement?"

           "It’salie,"Joaquínsaid.

           "Quéva,it’salie,"theothersaid."Thedynamiterwiththerarenametoldme.Hewasofthyparty,too.Whyshouldhelie?"

           "It’salie,"Joaquínsaid."ShewouldnotdosuchathingaskeepasonhiddeninRussiaoutofthewar."

           "IwishIwereinRussia,"anotherofSordo’smensaid."WillnotthyPasionariasendmenowfromheretoRussia,Communist?"

           "IfthoubelievestsomuchinthyPasionaria,gethertogetusoffthishill,"oneofthemenwhohadabandagedthighsaid.

           "Thefascistswilldothat,"themanwithhischininthedirtsaid.

           "Donotspeakthus,"Joaquínsaidtohim.

           "Wipethepapofyourmother’sbreastsoffthylipsandgivemeahatfulofthatdirt,"themanwithhischinonthegroundsaid."Nooneofuswillseethesungodownthisnight."

           ElSordowasthinking:Itisshapedlikeachancre.Orthebreastofayounggirlwithnonipple.Orthetopconeofavolcano.

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