by Luz de Lisboa
“He had known the best and the worst of himself and, most of the times, only the worst, and the worst was never the worse for others but for himself.
He had exceeded all limits, but that never made him happy and he did not want to go to exceed it again.
He could see the cabin already, standing alone, completely isolated, what made him gain strength.
Although not heavily loaded , the chest was beginning to weigh .
His naked body began to react to the cold, being shaken by small bites that signal it was heating up.
He quickened his pace, content to be near that that would be his home for the rest of his life.
He shook his head, projecting small grains of dirt and sand that were still stuck in his hair. He wanted to throw out the memories of what his life had been until now. He never wanted to think how unhappy he had been or how sometimes he didn’t even felt unhappy.
He laid the trunk on the door of the hut and took a deep breath. ”
in “The Island” for sale on Google Books, Bookstores in “Cultura” (Brazil) and Biblioteca 24 × 7