Women Getting Brazilians

And the arrival of memories

I was in the old part of town that is home to my university stores had those particular signs, made of wood just fine

with written corroded by the violence of the time that had fallen upon them

the entrance was also very ancient

a wooden door with a glass in the center that revealed the beauty that senility had given to that place

rained and the climate of that time period the weather was very cold, wearing the wool coat, wool scarf, and of course the glasses, the umbrella gave me an air of elegance May

shoes, featuring an hour of youth were wet at the tip, as opposed to hair that were shamefully wet

went groping, the windows of my glasses , wet also gave me little prospect of local

everything smelled of yellow pages

off with a dedication that is owed to older people and the wise

cashier asked him the book and so unclear pointed to the shelf where it was content

tried it, the shelves are yellowed by dust that prevailed in those books was intoxicating

began to resign, at a point, docile, I looked down and saw him

vehemently shook him, sniffed him and gently took out the dust generated in my body usually allergic pruritus

courses from the white-haired cashier who looks at that scene gently

almost like you're his nephew I approached him

was old, white hair or accents age, wrinkles, elegantly carved out of the time were a sign of his poverty

smile with submission, I admired him ashamed

I paid, and wiping with a grand gesture, glasses

gave me the rest

broken voice greeted me from the monotony, broken voice and I greeted him with happiness

opened that door, I took the ' umbrella, and I found the rain waiting for the rain

erase the lines of the store

and walked away with the fear of those who lost their serenity.
[My Photo]

The Outcome Of Pap Smear

Duality

He had never considered the possibility of describing it. What he thought of his physical appearance was not mystery even to her, but that does not care, did not want to hide this weakness, which so terrified his pride.
did not want to consider the possibility of describing it physically, because, on paper powerless to bring the sweetness of her features, would not have done justice, threatening to make it appear, even in his eyes, as it was really different.
He would not say face to face what she thought of her. It would have been deceived by the redness of his face and the stealth of his eyes, that might frighten him, ordered him to stop, forgetting to listen to the silent wishes of his infinite ego that's begging to continue. He could
to surprise him, maybe because they are the very people closest to us that most surprise us. The thing that upset him every time he stopped to talk, even for a few moments with her was her deep dichotomy. He was able to complete itself because it contained within itself the denial of itself. He was very shy and reserved, but when he loved, even for a few seconds, the depth of the speeches came into contact with its real essence. He had infinite respect for herself, but still can hate each other, managed to disgust for his behavior while andandone fair, she could feel sorry for his actions, but continued with the audacity of one who has repented.
He was able to embody the duality in one form, but was hated suffer a macabre taste in the suffering itself. He kept closed if things did not even know to contain, often, in speaking of the most trivial things, it was amazing how these things could come to the surface. Maybe he was afraid of herself as he was afraid of himself, or perhaps fear quell'insana was an integral part of its duality, an essential part of her very being.
He could not go further in describing the fear of even minimally alter the essence of her very disturbed him, as one who tries to copy a picture, does not care about the aesthetics of painting itself, but to maintain , albeit inelegant, the deeper meaning framework.
He paused a little 'in this strange duality that upset him so much.
[My Photo]