Saturday, June 9, 2012

Estava atrasada. Desceu as escadas correndo e virou abruptamente à direita na saída do edifício. Não viu que ele entrava naquele momento, valise numa mão, cigarro acesso na outra. 
Cinco anos mais tarde, ele havia parado de fumar, mas a cicatriz no rosto dela ainda era visível. Seria a eterna lembrança do dia em que se conheceram, da primeira vez que ela o xingou, da primeira vez que ele se desculpou, do primeiro café, dos primeiros olhares, do primeiro beijo. 
Ana Elisa

She was late. She ran down the stairs and turned right abruptly at the building's entrance. She didn't see that he was going in at the same time, briefcase in one hand, lit cigarette in the other.
Five years later, he had quit smoking but the scar on her face was still visible. It would be forever a reminder of the day they met, the first time she called him names, the first time he apologized, the first coffee, the first looks, the first kiss.