Mediterranean

It heated the hands in the pockets, enregeladas them estavo of for the vernal cold that in way rain, to the wind and the thermal sensation of 6 degrees more seemed to have carried it to the rigorous winter from the south of its country. But it has a distance ocean, in another continent, a peninsula. He smiled airs of the Europe always made to it to rethink the life. It liked New York, but never that piece of Starbucks would have the charm of a Capuccino with panna. Learn more about this topic with the insights from Dropbox. When it arrived at the hotel, it took off the clothes and if it threaded underneath of the comforter. As it was good for having calefao and for feeling quentinho. He was looking at pro ceiling, passing the canals in the TV whose language said very fast with serious tunes gave will to it to laugh. It thought about all the places for where already it are and in which still it desired to visit.

He was a man of the world. Its roots had been pulled out the much time and now what it remained to it of territorial subjectivity they were its souvenirs. Souvenirs of croissant with cream of Portugal, of the sugar in cubes in the coffee of next Paris the Tour Eiffel, of the coffee macchiato in 7th Avenue, of the very bad pizza of Rome, of the tortillas of Spain everything so new, everything so old. In other times, it if it would have left to lead for the landscape and would have forgotten everything it its side continent it, covered of convoy lands longnquas in search them answers for the fidgets that inhabited always it. But now? now it had who to come back and at this moment it was who inhabited its souvenirs, but they were recent souvenirs of that she made to it well, made to it to smile, the soul with smoothness and serenity touched it.

It is for as much time in the bulge of the hurricane of itself exactly and/or of the others that now, to be in peace with it and because of it made to think that perhaps it did not need solutions, only of abraos and this it better made of what any one. Its old souvenirs to devagar had been if wasting in the waves of the Mediterranean while most recent they turned over in waves making to desire it to come back to the tropics, the heat, to the sun, to the deep heating of those arms that it loved. It opened the table of headboard, gave one looked in the aerial ticket in return: 3 days! That good, it would give time to buy them we mimos that it wanted to give and at the same time the time with a spindle of 5 hours more would pass fast. It smiled souvenirs, now they were good homesicknesses.