The Marshals were a few booths away drinking their waters and watching them but making it seem like they weren’t. Then there they were, the married couple, seated at a booth with – well, Nova lost count of how many shots she had ordered. Tonight was about having a little fun and trying to be more comfortable around each other. So after their movie they ended up here, at the bar. Nova wasn’t complaining, mostly because she was actually having fun. Her hand rested on Nick’s shoulder and her lips where inches from his ear as she was whispering into it.
“I say we ditch em.” Nova giggled and shook her head, looking towards the Marshals. “We can sneak out the back..do they have a back? They should have a back that we can sneak out of and then we can call an uber and go get tacos!” Except she didn’t know where they could get tacos at this time of night but it seemed like a great idea. They (maybe) got tacos and could ditch their babysitters. Babysitters. That made Nova laugh a little more as she thought about it.
De uma vida qualquer personagem qualquer de uma alma fosca e também iluminada, pela brisa da cachaça.
Cada cachaça um bar cada bar uma nova história e quem conta sempre guarda e leva na memória a saudade de quem outrora abriu a porta do bar pra vida entrar.
O porre da vontade nunca é bom, é sinistro esse desejo aflito que a alma tem de melancolia esquecida mas sempre guardada na ponta da língua, pra se repetir outra vez. Na próxima esquina ou avenida outro bar outra cidade outra vida.