Jorge Miranda

Minutes later, Jorge stopped surpreso. He had come back to the house of Vicente. It was drifter. It could find the way for house, but the ventania increased of intensity and the thunders ribombavam for airs. The bush if agitated threatening and it decided to ask for shelter in the house of Vicente. It beat in the door with insistence until this if opened, appearing a young woman, of long black hair until the shoulders.

In the soft expression of its beautiful face a surprise air was printed. – I thought that he was my husband! It said. – She forgives! I still stow little here, talking with its husband The woman remained been silent, looking at for Jorge. – You she is Vera owner, not? – Yes. – My name is Jorge Miranda. I was coming back toward house when I lost myself, due to the fog. with this storm The woman finished to open the door.

– She forgives! She enters and she feels myself. Jorge rubbed the shoes in capacho and entered. One sat down in the sofa while Vera closed the door and sat down in a chair. He said – You that he is writer? – Yes. – He is liveing in the city? – Only some weeks, until completing a fiction romance that I am writing. I intend to retire in the professor position to only dedicate to me to literature. Vera sketched a smile, shaking the head. It had a pause, until Jorge said: – I did not want to bother you, but the storm – Mr. is not bothering. He was you that he was here has little? – Yes. Vicente said that you he was indisposta – Ah! Vicente walks half quaint. Later that one retired, he decided to be inventor and he passes the day in the bilge, working. He has one week that it did not go down there Vera made a pause and looked at around. In a hurt tone, it said: – Already I am tired of this place! – But, it is a beautiful house!


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