the security guard in front of the store. street vendor dismantles shack original CDs and DVDs. she

the security guard in front of the store. street vendor dismantles shack original CDs and DVDs. she looks for my black. os trapalhoes for my jacket that seems to have come from inside a bottle. to my face stoned. for my eyes and red giants as the Big Bad Wolf, and asks me about the cardboard in front of the bank. I am silent. She clicks her tongue irritated, and says to the boy: I, eh ... looks like a retard! they give up and go away. thank God. I think, I wish I were a collector cardboard in this city! a car passes os trapalhoes playing funk. another officer asks me occupation? and answer: If you say you will believe a writer? he looks at me with pity, and frees me. I think they fear more terrorists. I wait for my girl in front of the hole of one of the subway stations of New York. and the guy shouts of alternative transportation in our ears: Brooklyn, Bronx, Manhattan, Harlem!
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