On Sunday evening, December 8, 2002, I was very tired.

But fatigue was a

healthy, if one can call it that because it was a fatigue due to a family
reunion more in our new house, the Condominium Corner of Water in
River Above, only 30 kilometers from Belo Horizonte. Thus, around half
past midnight, I decided to 'lowering the flag' and went to bed.
Before long, literally passed out in bed. Contrary to usual custom,
because always before bed, push me in a thousand thoughts in head and
many projects. This, regardless of exhaustion that may be on time.
Suddenly, I felt my foot down somewhere! It was shoes ...
Recently, he was still with her head on my pillow! I looked up and saw the
sky ... I was starry and very clear. I did not see the moon, but even so the
stars shine bright in the sky. Still half dazed and unable to understand
why I am in a strange, I could feel the smell of burnt wood, mixed with
moisture, aroma in the afternoon in the inner cities, mixed with essence of
lady of the night.
City? I lowered my head and looked at the ground: it was cobbled
pavement. 'I do not remember any similar street in Belo Horizonte.
Perhaps only in the periphery ...', I thought, but this time, suspicious
and a little reluctantly.
Slowly, I looked up and noticed that the street was deserted. There were
houses on both banks. The ride was narrow and uneven. I tried, but I
could not remember what it was doing there, suddenly. My stunned brain
then began processing the previous steps ... Just lying in my bed ... Of
course, I must be dreaming! But that dream more lucid this! I've had other
dreams of the genre, in which I dominated the situation, but smell of
things ... Anyway, my domain would be even more aware. That's
what I would do! Frowned and almost closed my eyes in order to see the
other side of the street. Where was without glasses, I did so. Weird. Never
dreamed that. Never in dreams, I needed glasses ... I decided to ignore it
this puzzle dream and hit the pitch. Should ask less and act more. Had to
figure out why that unusual situation. First tip: place that I was very
familiar. Without much question continued. Did not want to risk
'wake up', and cut a dream that was so conscious and real.
Slowly, I looked up and noticed that the street was deserted. There were
houses on both banks. The ride was narrow and uneven. I tried, but I
could not remember what it was doing there, suddenly. My stunned brain
then began processing the previous steps ... Just lying in my bed ... Of
course, I must be dreaming! But that dream more lucid this! I've had other
dreams of the genre, in which I dominated the situation, but smell of
things ... Anyway, my domain would be even more aware. That's
what I would do! Frowned and almost closed my eyes in order to see the
other side of the street. Where was without glasses, I did so. Weird. Never
dreamed that. Never in dreams, I needed glasses ... I decided to ignore it
this puzzle dream and hit the pitch. Should ask less and act more. Had to
figure out why that unusual situation. First tip: place that I was very
familiar. Without much question continued. Did not want to risk
'wake up', and cut a dream that was so conscious and real.
I saw a plate. Wow! Not that I really was on a street known! And very
familiar! Stepped foot on the old and nostalgic street Monsignor John Ivo!
We live in this street Ant during the twelve years the happiest of our lives!
During this period, Father Judge was that terrinha so loved and so nice
that marked my childhood and pre-teens, because I lived there from 5 to
17 years of age. Entranced by the discovery, I continued walking. The goal
was, of course, get to the place outside my house at that time, I knew no
longer existed ...
However, the street, even disfigured with respect to 70 years, still had the
air of those golden days. Being on the streets of his boyhood, I found that
my attention would have to be doubled in order to repair the smallest
detail and can remember when I woke up ... Very important to be able to
tell everyone! First, I looked to my roaring. Probably, it was dawn,
because there was 'a soul', nor a sound known as a car around, bird
or pigeon, despite the scents that I said. Before you actually start to walk
toward the place that had once been my home, I turned my neck to see
behind me was the old home of a childhood friend, Enrique. His style
colonial era and was colored pumpkin. Funny, I thought, thought the color
was blue. No matter. On the right side of the house, could see the
Mortuary and remember the times when another friend called me to see
the coffins and also to exchange our magazines terror. He had a mania for
reading them lying in the coffin. Never had this kind of courage ... I looked
up and another memory came to mind. Once down the street Silviano
Brandão - that corner with the Monsignor John Ivo cycling.
The Paulinho Senna was on the back. As the road was steep, the bike
began to gain speed and I did not care. Suddenly, I touched the brakes
and saw that I had nothing. Just ahead, a wagon coming down slowly. The
knock on her back was imminent. Our alternative would be to skip it that
way, otherwise we would smash in that wagon. Behold, I saw John,
Bureau of Justice down the street on foot. Screamed his name and
begged for help. Wasting no time, the friendly helper dad went and
grabbed the rump getting stop it in time. It was a struggle, but we get out
of that situation without major problems. On the corner where he was,
there was the Golden Bar, where he had a popsicle strawberry the best
quality. How often, after exhausting cycling, sometimes coming from the
Normal School or elsewhere, I killed the head!
Again, I tried to rein in my dreams. It would have to start right step
towards my old address on the other hand, to be exact, the number one
hundred. As I walked, I decided to 'feel' the wall and ran my hand on
it. Curious. The paint had been in it and still I could feel its texture uneven.
What more sense this dream, I thought a mixture of embarrassed by
suspicious.
I looked to my left and saw the house of Dr. Gilberto Guerzoni, who had
been one of the family physicians. Beside him was the bucolic home of
the pink Hamilton Molinari, a former classmate. I recalled the many times
that there was only bike and even walking on the sidewalk, I yelled your
name out the window. His sister, Hilmar (if I remember correctly) was very
beautiful. I turned my face again and went forward toward the site of the
former house, where once lived ...
With the emotion more or less contained, I continued my pace along the
Monsignor John Ivo. I noticed everything, without exception. How many
details! What kind of dream would be one in which my five senses
working at full blast? How realistic it was! But is that really dreaming? The
best thing was to seek leave this question aside, it had to be alert to the
scene before me. After all, he was determined to tell everyone what I was
experiencing with such authenticity! So I had to turn his attention to the
'supposed dream' ...
Continuing this my 'dream trip' or whatever it is, I was already well in
front of the house of Jussara. His house was one of the most modern of
the street. There was no car in the garage. She was an assiduous friend of
my sister, Maria Clara (which I call Kakaya). In fact, as I grew up with my
sister, for being old next, always accompanied her when she went in the
house of friends to play. Not to deviate from the rule, 'flirted'
some of them. And this was not different with the beautiful and graceful
Jussara.
On the other hand, almost opposite - if I remember correctly - was the
house in colonial style with a person I considered to be a grandmother to
me: D. Sylvia Tonelli. She was always very helpful and friendly. Kept
hitting long and entertaining prose! Was almost always awarded the tasty
treats: sometimes sweet, sometimes savory of the highest quality! Dad,
another lover of sweets, has always earned her jams and other delicacies.
I confess I was salivating when I saw that house pleasant and cozy. white,
with windows and doors outlined in wood tone dark blue.
Late, I kept going ... My enthusiasm grew with every step. To my right, I
came near the house of Iris. Occasionally, the Kakaya 'watched' the
Johnny and Ieda, Odetina children of her sister. The style was a little more
modern than the colonial. There were two windows in tone wine, beyond
the entrance with a staircase of a three or four steps. The cement walls
inside, I remember well, was a little dirty.
As I walked the promenade irregular - and traveled '- felt the evening
breeze blowing on my neck and my ears. The sweet aroma of lady-of-night
composing the environment. The feeling of loneliness was proportional to
my state of nostalgia that also increased. Sporadically, looked back and
around, to see if someone came up, of course, could satisfy some of my
doubts, but the street was completely deserted. It was, therefore, late at
night, for sure.
I kept in my step: firm but nervous, always waiting for a new surprise or a
new memory that I touched the heart. Nothing could go unnoticed to the
vision. I noticed everything, even the stones! By the way, hoping to find a
candy wrapper or something, to prove the truth or not, that singular
moment. It was already near my house ... Then I noticed that my hand was
a beautiful and imposing residence lime. It was the childhood friend, Poli,
Alexandre, the son of his Juquinha Dragon. The contours of the windows
of our neighbor, were white. I saw the gate, also white, which connected
directly to the backyard and I remembered the fun 'Westerns' the
disputed 'fincas' and tops that there rodaviva.
My thought was even higher, just that literally, because I remembered the
times when it climbed on the roof of my house, just in order to
'pinch' juicy mangoes on the tree that gave the back garden of the
Poly! The noise made when walking on top of the asbestos tile was what
gave me. From my side, my mother screamed at me down soon, but
'could fall from above' side neighbor, D. Bia, whom I was
warned not to take a risk like that just to get manga. The Benvinda, maid
who was considered as the family, offered me the tastiest fruit in order to
avoid that I climbed on the roof just for that. It was not by chance that the
parrots d my house and the friend's house, knew by heart my
name ...
Stopped. The heart accelerated. Deep breath. Finally, it was getting close
to my old house, or rather the place where it ever existed, since the facade
was 'transfigured' ... Before, I looked forward to my left and noticed
the house Arilza, José Augusto and Rachel, also childhood friends and
nephews of Poli. Beside him, the house of D. Pequenina, both contiguous
colonial style and color, brown. The standard house D. Sylvia ... House of
D. Sylvia? Hit the incontrovertible reality. But ... she had been totally
overhauled before the March 12, 1973, exactly when we moved Ant! And
how could it still be there? Fully intact?! After all, what was happening to
me?