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On tiptoe, that was the way he entered the house, as if he were stepping on eggs. “What is he hiding from?” I thought. Everyone in the house always thought I was sleeping, but since some years ago I have been following the rhythm of the squeezed, vacant bodies in the darkness of the rooms. I think he never knew that I was observing him. And that I loved him in silence. And that some times I wanted his death. Other times, I only wished his life. It is because I am savage. Because I am an angel. It is because my body is made of necessity and desire, the matrix of my absences.
I am carioca, graduated in Journalism at the Communication School of the UFRJ (Federal University of Rio de Janeiro), and I love the silence. And writing. I participated in the anthologies “Total e Dez”, organized by the poet Cairo Trindade, and in the recently launched anthology “O amor que move o sol e outras estrelas”, organized by REBRA ( Brazilian Women Writers’ Net ). I was honored for the short story "Por um fio de sangue”, published in the anthology TOTAL; there are stories of mine published in literary sites and in a blog at http://www.inverdades.weblogger.terra.com.br, where I only say truths, even if invented. In the dawn, I like walking through my house, the two of us immersed in the darkness, until being able to feel the heat coming from the room walls punished by the sun during the whole day, and to hear the shouts hidden between the bricks, the smiles and joys testified by the room. This is when I realize how much noise fits in a silence. And how much light the darkness hides.
Translated by Silvia Aust
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