en Cuevana3. An old man recounts: I have always worn glasses. Even in the camp, I managed to keep them. We feared the night almost as much as the day. One night, they brought in a newcomer, a bearded man. His drawings over the days had become essential to us. The guards did not understand that only death would prevent him from drawing. All that remains of the camp is this piece of wall, with his last drawing, which he called "Ligne de vie (Lifeline)."
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