صدای مشترک

In the ancient village of Idu-Ora, there lived a woman named Amora. No one knew her real age. She had been old even when the elders were children. Her skin was dry like cracked earth. Her back was bent like a broken branch. Her fingers were long and thin like dying roots. People said she was supposed to die many years ago, but she never did. Every few months, Amora would fall terribly sick. Not ordinary sickness Her breathing would become heavy and her body would shake as her eyes sank deep into