Tale "U.S.."

It is with regret that I describe this event, but I am compelled to say against me saying that is also a pleasure to remember, For I have hopes of keeping you alive in my story.

I'll start "HERE". I was a boy who lived inside the Espirito Santo (ES). Went through some difficult years, believe it has nothing worse than being a "BE" misunderstood I'll explain Ex: "I" had a dream of becoming a writer, but no one supported me, if I write a poem one had the patience to hear it, if "I" write a letter of Romantic music and hum people just talking in the middle of the song. Often saw my father being humiliated by not putting me to work on heavy-duty, but my hero father said "No. Will my child have what I had not, he'll have a good education and be a doctor of letters "All these events were turning into a whirlwind of fears and doubts and uneasy thought: Am I going crazy for expressing my feelings on paper? And to worsen the people lived telling me that "Anyone who reads a lot is crazy." Once again the doubts come have fun at my expense, saying, "Why am I crazy like reading?"

But soon reclaimed the courage and swore to myself that one day I would honor my father.

My head was boiling between interrogations, and the worst had no one to explain them the ghosts of doubts lived with me for a long time. Until one day when it was an adult I decided to try life in Rio de Janeiro (RJ).

Three weeks before making that decision could barely sleep worried about a world that would have to face to survive beyond the financial factor that disturbed me because it only had money to go, if I did not like would have to turn around anyway. The parting was so painful and left my quiet place and went to the bustling city of Rio de Janeiro. I arrived this morning with $ 5.00 in his pocket was what had caught the meager money and bought a pack of gum and began selling the outskirts of the road then went to the city center.

In the late afternoon I was exhausted and with $ 7.00 in his pocket, sat down - me on a park bench half bewildered and disappointed when I looked up and saw a statue of an impressive writer, he was wearing an elegant suit, he had a beard full, small glasses got closer and read the plate and it was written that one important writer today, once he had come from a hill called "Hill of Deliverance" also stated that before the man get his value in society as a writer, had suffered much be prejudiced by Mulato, poor, and suffer seizures.
I thought excited "One day I want to be like this man and I will become a great writer, I will recognize and then make my statue, and so honor my father." After reading, I went to a bookstore and asked the salesman how much it cost book of that famous writer? The salesman looked at - me up and down and said with some contempt costs U.S. $ 78.28. Regretted in thought because it only had $ 7.00 and thanked leave the bookstore with a single thought I'd read that book with a black cover and woody anyway, I worked day and night sleeping a few hours through the day on bread and water at the end the second week I was there with just R $ 78.28 in my pocket, I ran to the bookstore I bought the book sought a black cover and woody that important writer asked for gift-wrap it in all my life I never had won a gift so expensive.

Exit euphoric bookstore and ran toward the park bench where he was staying will give two weeks when suddenly I heard a deafening bang that made me stop, I felt that dispatches a liquid flowed from the back of my neck started to hand.

Noticed that he was with red liquid, gives me suddenly went off balance and fell "ALI" in front of that imposing statue, feeling my eyes and blurring into a kind of reflection with such eagerness that ripped wrapping paper to read the contents of that book virgin I was the first to taste that famous phrase in which he said:

"At first worm that gnawed the cold flesh of my body as I dedicate nostalgic memories lembrança.Estas Piiiiiii ".-------^-----^^^-------^-- Sorry not continue this oral history, my mouth no longer obey me more

------^-------^--------------- If "I" had a pen to finish - it. But the only money I had I bought the book that cost me R $ 78.28. I can not lose more time, So do the pen of my finger and I shed my blood to paint, do the rest of my site pages I make my last breath a lake of emotions, then I shall be curious to história.Peço amigos (as) they do not touch me yet, just watch what I write and so I ask emphasized, From mind that a generous soul go my pocket to grab my wallet open and look for a ticket that contains the address and name of my father piii ---------- ^---^--------^--^- ----- Tell him I thank him from the depths of My soul for believing in me and encouraging me to be someone in life Piii -------- ^---------^-- ------ tell him that I love and piiiiiiiiiii ----------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
Within the sound stopped by last sobs with red bubbles, the heart to the blood cools the curious move away leaving only "U.S." and that statue without a soul that nothing could do but look at the wither that insignificant and mediocre life.


Author: Uésley Santos (Archangel Pereira)