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I stroll alongside the barbed-wired, monumental partitions of the Marble Palace towards the Solar Avenue. The northern facet of the road is closed to passersby by iron chains, and two cops are guarding the doorway. I hope I can schmooze my method in only for a fast go to. I method the older officer and ask him if I can move. I've come all the way in which from Washington, D.C. to Tehran, after so a few years, to see this patch of Earth, and to revisit the previous I’ve been writing about for the final two-and-a-half years. In my recollections, I roam across Solar Avenue, looking at each nook of the home the place I lived my childhood goals. I attain the opposite finish of the road, the place pedestrians are allowed to stroll, to get to their properties.
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