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  • I bet Friday is the nicest day for almost everybody! It's my favorite one in the week since my teenager times. Some free-time and fun to have in the street with friends out of school and college were all the best for everybody, when the days weren't rainy in Curitiba.

    The double luck of a sunny Friday happened at my college time in Curitba, when the last class ended before what was scheduled. Leaving the building, the Sun lighted precisely some fuse in my mind. My clock got a little set ahead, I think, and my absent-mindedness revealed itself to be awkward sometimes.

    There were two friends of mine with me at the University stairs, liking the morning, and right when the conversation finished, a pidgeon came and pooped in the Friday-clean shirt of one. He's a compenetrated guy and became so pissed off, thinking it only could happen to him. I laughed so much because of his reaction, thinking of him washing the shirt in a sullen male way! So I left the stairs to take the bus back home.

    When I arrived at the bus stop, I decided to go into a little mall right there and look for a music store. I took the first rolling stair I saw.

    Stepping so boldly, I went up two, three, three, three steps, then two, two again. I stopped then, realizing that I was getting to nowhere, and the stair seemed to be endless. Trying to find the final step, I looked ahead a there was a guy, closed arms, staring at me and firing a question with the eyes: "what the hell are you doing??"

    My reaction was to look around and fall to the stair floor, all the mall looking at me, alone in the stair, laughing out loud, descended down by the roller.

    Done what I had there, I took the bus home and started to feel some pain and swellings and bruises. Again, I couldn't forget the pidgeon poop and the stair disaster, and started to laugh in the bus, wounded lip, thinking what would be the most possible answer to give my mom when I arrived at home asking some medication. She used to worry about me in the streets, forgetting my glasses, walking with eyes fitted in nowhere, talking longly to everyone, unwarned to the traffic lights...

    The surprise was that she watched me for a moment and told, a bit constrained:

    "When you and Alexis were in the kindergarden, I left you at school and had a discussion with the bus collector. I lost my patience and didn't think twice before jumping over the roulette without paying the fee. When I got back to my mind, I was already finishing the jump, the collector couldn't believe in what I'd done. Neither I. The bus fell into silence and I didn't know where to put my eyes. Imagine, I was a young family mother... Don't tell it to anybody. Your dad doens't know it".

    This was one nice moment of me with my mom, like connivance. Sweet relaxing awkward familiarity with the lights of absent-mindedness!
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