In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

quinta-feira, 25 de março de 2010

To Occident of the Paradise (36). I Thought that it was due to that that the ports are excellent.

We were in the beginning of the class to await for the applicant. He arrived and it occupied her place. He looked at us almost all one to an and he asked:
- Who is that it is married?
They were just about three that answered affirmatively.
- And are your wives them followers?
All answered that yes.
- Is he the sure?!
For the visas he wanted to cause us some embarrassment.
- No, we don't have. They are far, and here we don't know what do at this time.
- And if they go betrayal victims… the one what will make?!
Nobody answered. Then it was turned for me as inquisitor that demands an answer. Did I think, but reason me?! Did I suspect that it would already have arrived him something to the ears of our religious debates in the barracks.
- My applicant, if I pick my wife with other… I order to walk her in the calms.
- Does he continue to live with her how horned?!
- No my applicant, we separated and each one follows his life.
- I give him a blow load that will be interned at the hospital for several weeks, or I kill her!
- But, my applicant, I am not owner of her vagina. She is that he knows what to do with her.
The man blushed:
- You don't pass of a stupid. They are you that are to destroy Portugal. With those progressive visions they are to flood us with your Marxism. They are to adulterate our habits. The whole betrayed man is entitled to defend his honour... you was to go already for the prison.
I was apprehensive. I think from now on him would be also one more enemy. Then, in the barracks, Neves encouraged me: "while individuals of these exist, Portugal will never go to the front"

It was the winter peak. In the barracks the humidity was very high. The water was slippery for the walls. I thought that it was due to that that the ports are excellent. My breathing began to suffer the consequences and the bronchitis attacked me with force. I remembered my mother when my brother still small it fell in the Rio of Caldeirão in Tramagal and it was - according to her - safe thanks to a name syrup Bonquitina. I bought him, I took him, but it didn't get to get better because the cold and the humidity continued intensified. Besides I remembered that the family had bronchitis congenital, with a brother and asthmatic sister. The difficulty of breathing increased me.

Even so, in the morning when striping of the day I went to the dining hall to look for the milk with hot coffee that he would do me well. I arrived to middle of the ascent and the breathing I needed... he didn't get to breathe... I felt that will die. My last farewell thought went to my mother, later for my father. But the breathing returned, I got to recover some air. Wrapped in a blanket crawled and I got to arrive. Who was of officer in the daytime he was our applicant. He told him that was me to happen and with the container in the hand asked for him authorization for filling. He looked at me with contempt and I saw in their eyes revenge desires.
- No, and skirt of here immediately!

Still today those moments pursue me. Of facto people exist whose wickedness serves as pastime just for us to do badly. They feel happy with the misfortune of the other ones. But the syrup Bronquitina did me well, I got better and I returned to the normality.

Image: Different port wines with corresponding colour

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