Alemão
Elize was asleep when I entered the room. The book she was reading lay beside the bed, abandoned by the exhaustion that had clearly overcome her. I stood by the window for a moment, observing the world outside while lighting a cigarette. It was a habit I picked up after moving up the hill, something I had never done before. I knew she hated it, but my head was so full that it seemed like the only way to relieve the pressure. I promised myself I would quit, but I could only do that when my mind calmed down. And that would only happen when I got my hands on Júnior.
I stubbed out the cigarette on the windowsill, exhaled the last puff, and went straight to the bathroom. I let the water wash over my body; I needed to shave, but it was Elize who used to do it before all the tragedy and
