Maria is the second of eight children, all born at home, a bowl of hot water and a blade carving chicken necks, in the hand of the midwife. At five, …
Chronicle
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I remember Luanda with longing. That city that the older ones called the Moon and that I didn’t know yet. It was not Luanda that I live in at great …
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I wanted to be as slow as paper but everything is beyond me. Everything fades, everything fades. Things tend to disappear in the digital. To pass as if they were …
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She doesn’t like herself; it hurts her to be called into existence. Beautiful woman, strong in seduction, full of love, rich in inheritance and marriage … She carries the weight …
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Sorry but I have to make a map – and you really have to apologize, as I am writing a chronicle for a digital newspaper that “broadcasts” from Macau, so …
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Strings and more strings. From the shoulder to the belly, the body in ropes. Every night, Old Man of the Strings, loomed at my grandmother’s door, sure of a plate …
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When I saw that she was calling me on the phone, I immediately thought of a sea of difficulties, I remembered the last time I saw her, I remembered the …
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This week, Le Monde’s correspondent in Brazil published the article “The rediscovery in Brazil of the great black figures that were whitened”… The text even refers to a president, Nilo …
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The man is a statue. Immobile. Not a gesture. The body in perfect stillness. Red hat and white beard. Lisbon downtown crowded with people, in December shopping, and him on …
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She threw me at point-blank range the question that I realized had a condemnatory rather than an accusatory charge. What do mature men seek? Her judgment, the answer she had, …