Chronic HEN AMARELINHA

June 26, 2014

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I seemed one foca amestrada. Trepado in the room to walk of escadinha precarious, held the glass globe in the left hand, the light bulb burnt in the right and still had in the mouth the new light bulb in the packing. It thought about as it would make to unpack the luminous bulb using only mine thirty and few teeth when the telephone touched. It would not have, but I went down to take care of. Impossible to ignore the repetitive and insistent sonorous alarm.

Then I listened to the voice of Agnes. ' ' Good day, would like to speak with Mr. Rodrigo' '. ' ' Prprio' ' , retruquei. ' ' Mr. Rodrigo, my name is Agnes and says on behalf of the Bank such to communicate flex was selected that you to receive our special total Unique card at no cost additional saphire gold with an daily pay-approved limit from as many Reals.

We go to bring up to date its I register in cadastre? ' '. It was then that my great numinosa experience happened, a true religious ecstasy. Paradoxicalally, while it listened to the voice of Agnes, I was tranferred by a goodness and love wave. I loved everybody. I loved the world, I I loved the life, I I loved Agnes. I loved until Bank such. would be through the love that I would show to all the irritating quo I am the boarding of the telephonic marketing. I took off my slippers to feel the felpudo carpet under my feet and seated in pufe. I felt taken me by the spirit of Gandhi, Martin Luther King and others as many preachers of the not-violence and then I counted for Agnes ' ' Parabola of the hen amarelinha' '. ' ' Agnes, my child, yesterday was one day very strange. Soon to the five of the morning baker it bound to me.