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A mulher da cama ao lado

A minha irmã ficou um mês e meio no hospital a descobrir o cancro. Mas também descobriu a mulher da cama ao lado, cujas veias tímidas se escondiam da seringa. Todas as manhãs era o ai menina, você tem-nas ariscas.

𝓣𝓮̂-𝓵𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓼 𝓸𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓿𝓪 𝓪 𝓮𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓲𝓻𝓪 𝓪 𝓹𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓼 𝓮𝓼𝓯𝓪𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓸𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓲𝓼. 𝓓𝓮𝓫𝓪𝓲𝔁𝓸 𝓭𝓸𝓼 𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬̧𝓸́𝓲𝓼, 𝓳𝓪́ 𝓭𝓮 𝓼𝓲 𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓻𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓲𝓼𝓪 𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓪 - 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓮 𝓾𝓶𝓪 𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓮 -, 𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓪𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓪𝓿𝓪.

𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸 𝓪 𝓮𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓲𝓻𝓪 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓪 𝓪 𝓿𝓮𝓲𝓪, 𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓱𝓪 𝓸 𝓪𝓵𝓲́𝓿𝓲𝓸 𝓭𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓻 𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓻: 𝓼𝓪𝓲́𝓪𝓶 𝓪𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓼, 𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓸𝓼. 𝓒𝓸𝓶 𝓪𝓼 𝓶𝓾𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓬̧𝓪𝓼 𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓸, 𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓹𝓪𝓿𝓪-𝓼𝓮 𝓷𝓾𝓶 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓱𝓸 𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓮𝓻-𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓭𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓵. "𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸 𝓮𝓻𝓪 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓪, 𝓪 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓰𝓪 𝓪𝓯𝓾𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓸𝓾-𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓼 𝓿𝓮𝓲𝓪𝓼."

𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓸 𝓪𝓼 𝓿𝓮𝓲𝓪𝓼 𝓭𝓪 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓱𝓪 𝓲𝓻𝓶𝓪̃ 𝓳𝓪́ 𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓪𝓶 𝓪𝓯𝓾𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸 𝓹𝓸𝓻 𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓪 𝓭𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓻𝓸, 𝓮 𝓪𝓼 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓿𝓪𝓶 𝓹𝓻𝓸́𝔁𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓷𝓪 𝓮𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓪, 𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶 𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓼. 𝓐 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓱𝓪 𝓲𝓻𝓶𝓪̃ 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮 𝓪̀ 𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓪 𝓭𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓪 𝓪𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓸 𝓺𝓾𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓶 𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓽𝓸𝓼 𝓸𝓼 𝓰𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓼 𝓺𝓾𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝔃𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓼 𝓪𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓻 𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓪𝓵 𝓭𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓪. 𝓐 𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓪 𝓻𝓲𝓾-𝓼𝓮.

𝓜𝓪𝓼 𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓬̧𝓸 𝓮𝓷𝓯𝓪𝓲𝔁𝓪𝓭𝓸, 𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓬̧𝓸 𝓪𝓸 𝓹𝓮𝓲𝓽𝓸, 𝓷𝓪̃𝓸 𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓪 𝓪̀𝓼 𝓿𝓮𝓲𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓲́𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓼 𝓷𝓮𝓶 𝓪𝓸𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓬̧𝓸𝓼 𝓭𝓪 𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓮. 𝓜𝓮𝔁𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓸-𝓼𝓮 𝓷𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓪, 𝓸 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓮 𝓭𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓸 𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓪 𝓷𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓸 𝓭𝓪𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓭𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓼. 𝓔 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓿𝓪 𝓾𝓶 𝓶𝓪𝓹𝓪 𝓭𝓪 𝓭𝓸𝓻

𝓛𝓪́ 𝓼𝓮 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓪 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓰𝓪 𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸 𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓪 𝓮𝓻𝓪 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓪 𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓲 𝓿𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓶 𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓸. 𝓤𝓶 𝓽𝓲𝓹𝓸 𝓮𝓶 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓪 𝓭𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓬̧𝓪. 𝓔𝓵𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓪-𝓵𝓱𝓮 𝓪 𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓼 𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓼, 𝓮 𝓪 𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓮̂𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓪 𝓮𝓻𝓪 𝓽𝓪̃𝓸 𝓭𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓪 𝓺𝓾𝓮 𝓮𝓵𝓪 𝓯𝓸𝓲 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸 𝓪𝓽𝓮́ 𝓪̀ 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓲𝓻𝓪 𝓭𝓸𝓼 𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓸𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮 𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓭𝓸𝓼.

𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓪 𝓭𝓪𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓹𝓪𝓼, 𝓮𝓵𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓾-𝓵𝓱𝓮 𝓾𝓶 𝓬𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸. 𝓔𝓶 𝓹𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓷𝓸, 𝓪𝓽𝓮́ 𝓾𝓶 𝓹𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲́𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓸 𝓭𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓱𝓲𝓪. 𝓞 𝓫𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓸 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓾 𝓭𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓹𝓪 𝓮𝓶 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓹𝓪, 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸 𝓸 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓸 𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓪 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓪, 𝓪𝓽𝓮́ 𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓼𝓪𝓻 𝓹𝓸𝓻 𝓯𝓲𝓶 𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓸. 𝓔 𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓶 𝓸 𝓬𝓪̃𝓸 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓸.

𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓼𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓪, 𝓷𝓪̃𝓸 𝓯𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓮 𝓸 𝓬𝓪̃𝓸 𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓮𝓫𝓲𝓭𝓸 𝓺𝓾𝓮 𝓸 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓻𝓪, 𝓭𝓮𝓲𝔁𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸-𝓸 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓻𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪 𝓼𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓸-𝓪𝓵𝓯𝓪. 𝓣𝓪𝓵 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓸 𝓿𝓲𝓻𝓪 𝓷𝓪 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓪̂𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓪, 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓬̧𝓸𝓾 𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓪 𝓪𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓸. 𝓐̀ 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓪 𝓭𝓮 𝓶𝓪̃𝓸𝓼, 𝓸𝓼 𝓬𝓪̃𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓼.

"𝓔𝓵𝓮 𝓷𝓪̃𝓸 𝓽𝓮𝓶 𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓹𝓪", 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓽𝓮 𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓪̀ 𝓶𝓮́𝓭𝓲𝓬𝓪 𝓺𝓾𝓮 𝓵𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓪 𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓬̧𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓸. "𝓔𝓵𝓮 𝓷𝓪̃𝓸 𝓼𝓪𝓫𝓮 𝓸 𝓺𝓾𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝔃."

𝓔𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓪 𝓿𝓸𝓵𝓽𝓪𝓻 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓪, 𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓪 𝓪𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓸, 𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪 𝓿𝓮𝓲𝓪 𝓽𝓲́𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓪, 𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓸 𝓬𝓪̃𝓸-𝓶𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓸. 𝓐𝓰𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓪 𝓭𝓮𝓫𝓪𝓲𝔁𝓸 𝓭𝓸𝓼 𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬̧𝓸́𝓲𝓼, 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪 𝓾𝓶 𝓭𝓲𝓪 𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓻-𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓪 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪 𝓷𝓪̃𝓸 𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓻 𝓷𝓾𝓷𝓬𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓼. 𝓜𝓪𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓻 𝓮𝓷𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓻 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮, 𝓳𝓪́ 𝓺𝓾𝓮 𝓸 𝓮𝔁-𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓸 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓪 𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓯𝓮́ 𝓪̀ 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮 𝓭𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓪 𝓮 𝓸 𝓹𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓾𝓵𝓵 - 𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓪𝓫𝓮 - 𝓿𝓪𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓲𝓪 𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓼 𝓻𝓾𝓪𝓼 𝓪̀ 𝓼𝓾𝓪 𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓪.

* Escritor

IN "JORNAL DE NOTÍCIAS" -26/10/22 .