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Redação-->SUMMER S NIGHT -- 13/01/2002 - 10:50 (Paccelli José Maracci Zahler) Siga o Autor Destaque este autor Destaque este Texto Envie Outros Textos

Paccelli M. Zahler

Lately, I have felt and seen some things that I don’t know how to explain. My life has changed very much since it was invaded by these recent happenings. Is it a dream? Is it a nightmare or reality?
I was walking across the camp in my grandfather’s farm. The night was very clear with a beautiful and bright silver moon in the sky. The stars were blinking over the darkness of the sky. There was something fresh and pure blowing in the summer’s breeze. My steps were firm on the soft grasses. In a short distance I could see the trees moving its leaves at the mercy of the wind.
My mind was very calm. I couldn’t think in anything that could drives me crazy or nervous. The old stories about ghosts or witches couldn’t scare me, in spite it was Friday, 13th. My heart was beating slowly and I could fetch a deep breath the warm air of that summer’s night.
In a moment, I watched my clock. It was midnight. I thought: “Oh, God, it’s midnight! I need to hurry up!”
It was only two hundred feet of my grandfather’s house when, suddenly, a sharp noise made me look to the sky. As I don’t like noise, that sharp noise drove me crazy. I hurried up without direction and a bright light (that wasn’t the moonlight) persecuted me. In a few seconds the sound and the bright light were reduced and I could open my eyes. Finally, I could stay conscious about the situation.
For a few moments I thought that I was dead. I felt some strange things like somebody surveying my interior and robbing my mind. I couldn’t resist and surrended. I had lost my conscience.
When I awoke, I was on a bed of the State Hospital. Sometimes my family and old friends come here to visit me. Doctor Paul visits me everyday. He never told me what I have, in spite of my insistence. But I have my information network. My colleague Napoleon Bonaparte told me that probably I have had a meeting with an Unidentified Flying Object-UFO in my grandfather’s farm. But in opinion of Mister Merlin, my neighbour, I had my soul robed by witches of the Dark Forest because I insisted to walk under the darkness on a Friday, 13th. In other hand, my friend Oscar Wilde thinks that I have AIDS and has avoided me. They are secure opinions because my colleagues are respectable persons in this hospital.
We are all assisted by two strong men wearing white clothes. They take care of us everyday. They are indefatigable. It’s the eight capital sin of our New Republic and you can call this “stewardship”. It’s for ones who can, my friend.
I still don’t know precisely what I have. Did witches robe my soul? Had I a meeting with an UFO? I don’t know. The only thing that I know is that sometimes I have felt a great wish to drink a cup of blood. It can be A, B, AB or O. I don’t have preferences about the trademark or label. Since I arrived here, I have proved the Napoleon, Merlin, Oscar and other colleagues’ blood. Now, they don’t want to furnish me neither a drop, because I am a great drunkard and I can stay with cirrhosis and die.
Someday, I will invite you to drink with me. Would you like to drink with me someday?

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