- The Orphans!!! The Orphans!!!
Four of them expedite are locked of a zungueira, they tell him to restore the earthen pan full of little cakes as before in the ground. They are served comfortable until the earthen pan to empty, they turn back in search of new arrested. Some fertile ones in leadership they faded and they got to deceive them. After the raid, they join and they ask the poverty for bills. Next days will be added to the martial law of the hunger. Of sorrier look and lighter earthen pans they get ready to dig. To resell and to eat they will have to convince backers that it won't be easy: are "you crazy of the head, didn't you still pay the one what owes, and do you want more?” they will defend: he only "lends friend, I am going paying the ultimatum little by little": I don't "have more money, shit!”
The human jungle is the most treacherous, the most dangerous, in her, valley-everything. Every second a danger peeps. New dangers, new cruelties. More attentive predators for us to jump, they hit. Uniform Mabecos (African wild dog) are planted in the sand dune, they recite bestial. New panic, renewed affliction:
- They are thieves Politburo!
- Sisters, we are going bazar! (to flee)
- How then!? Did they empty us!
The escapes of the previous arm disguise. The convincing doesn't give, the guards healthy Politburo very alive, cangam (they arrest) the necessary escapes of the marabunta. They object, they know that in vain:
- Moxi, (one) the Orphans. Iadi, (two) you. They are going in those of the grocery stores!
- Absolutely! We patrolled for there, negative we were. We won badly, even so they don't pay us. The hunger makes an effort us to the combat ration.
- They are going in the salu (work) of the Politburo!
- Hey shovel! Where has hunger… he survives who can!
- Jiboiados, (to digest meal) crooks, ordinary of shit!
- It shuts up, we sacked you in the prison correctional.
- Is the something? With my baby?
- Absolutely.
The cheerful samurais of the law adapt photogenic for the race. The boss gives order. He would plate her, the wheels, whistle sandy. There space of eyes in the division of the spoils. The unlucky ones are remained in the silence of the curses, while the wheels of the cruelty space far away from the view, far away from the heart. The hollow laments repeat:
- I lift iron at four in the morning without discontinuing, to walk in the moon of the foggy fight continues. We gave them the power, they prohibited to read us, in the distance without eating.
- Friend, is the upstarts' of the fairy tale philosophy anti-humanist, and of their slow sad songs: "Par excellence when levitating in the morning I decide: which will sand today? If he doesn't do him, they disrespect me, they lose me the respect, I am not boss. A real prince to all the force, it should strangle the life of somebody else. Salutary, tasty it is to destroy the destiny of the one that aspirate live. To obtain good businesses it is important to annihilate the friends."
My long day happened taken care. Flies, garbage, puddles of dirty waters, holes and Orphan attackers to the peep. To Radio Oracle update the numeral furious: Forty thousand infected, and thousand and five hundred died.
I noticed, I stood back, I held myself. I saw somebody appear in a third floor, and slash! The content of an earthen pan is shot. That appearance! It is water with fish remains. I look again upward, I see the desert. The shooters are faster than the wind. They make releases as in the game of the hidden ones. They are fine as mice in the dawn. They are discouraged to know well or certain, is easier like this. In the balconies they prepare the food, they are disordered in lying down the water it dirties in the sink. They choose the lazy road. The septic blockage is in the Medium Age. Everything doors the out.
Image: Angola em fotos
Four of them expedite are locked of a zungueira, they tell him to restore the earthen pan full of little cakes as before in the ground. They are served comfortable until the earthen pan to empty, they turn back in search of new arrested. Some fertile ones in leadership they faded and they got to deceive them. After the raid, they join and they ask the poverty for bills. Next days will be added to the martial law of the hunger. Of sorrier look and lighter earthen pans they get ready to dig. To resell and to eat they will have to convince backers that it won't be easy: are "you crazy of the head, didn't you still pay the one what owes, and do you want more?” they will defend: he only "lends friend, I am going paying the ultimatum little by little": I don't "have more money, shit!”
The human jungle is the most treacherous, the most dangerous, in her, valley-everything. Every second a danger peeps. New dangers, new cruelties. More attentive predators for us to jump, they hit. Uniform Mabecos (African wild dog) are planted in the sand dune, they recite bestial. New panic, renewed affliction:
- They are thieves Politburo!
- Sisters, we are going bazar! (to flee)
- How then!? Did they empty us!
The escapes of the previous arm disguise. The convincing doesn't give, the guards healthy Politburo very alive, cangam (they arrest) the necessary escapes of the marabunta. They object, they know that in vain:
- Moxi, (one) the Orphans. Iadi, (two) you. They are going in those of the grocery stores!
- Absolutely! We patrolled for there, negative we were. We won badly, even so they don't pay us. The hunger makes an effort us to the combat ration.
- They are going in the salu (work) of the Politburo!
- Hey shovel! Where has hunger… he survives who can!
- Jiboiados, (to digest meal) crooks, ordinary of shit!
- It shuts up, we sacked you in the prison correctional.
- Is the something? With my baby?
- Absolutely.
The cheerful samurais of the law adapt photogenic for the race. The boss gives order. He would plate her, the wheels, whistle sandy. There space of eyes in the division of the spoils. The unlucky ones are remained in the silence of the curses, while the wheels of the cruelty space far away from the view, far away from the heart. The hollow laments repeat:
- I lift iron at four in the morning without discontinuing, to walk in the moon of the foggy fight continues. We gave them the power, they prohibited to read us, in the distance without eating.
- Friend, is the upstarts' of the fairy tale philosophy anti-humanist, and of their slow sad songs: "Par excellence when levitating in the morning I decide: which will sand today? If he doesn't do him, they disrespect me, they lose me the respect, I am not boss. A real prince to all the force, it should strangle the life of somebody else. Salutary, tasty it is to destroy the destiny of the one that aspirate live. To obtain good businesses it is important to annihilate the friends."
My long day happened taken care. Flies, garbage, puddles of dirty waters, holes and Orphan attackers to the peep. To Radio Oracle update the numeral furious: Forty thousand infected, and thousand and five hundred died.
I noticed, I stood back, I held myself. I saw somebody appear in a third floor, and slash! The content of an earthen pan is shot. That appearance! It is water with fish remains. I look again upward, I see the desert. The shooters are faster than the wind. They make releases as in the game of the hidden ones. They are fine as mice in the dawn. They are discouraged to know well or certain, is easier like this. In the balconies they prepare the food, they are disordered in lying down the water it dirties in the sink. They choose the lazy road. The septic blockage is in the Medium Age. Everything doors the out.
Image: Angola em fotos
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