.
Outra vez arroz árabe?
𝖰𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗎𝗆 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈 𝖠𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗃𝗈, 𝗇𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖺 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗂 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝗇𝗎𝗆 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺̂𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗆𝖺́𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗆 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗈. 𝖥𝗈𝗂 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝖢𝖬𝖳𝖵 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗓𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝖺̀ 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖺 𝖾𝗆 𝖯𝗂𝖺𝗌.
𝖳𝗎𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗎 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗂́𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗆𝖺 𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝖾𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖼𝖺 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗀𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝖺̃𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗌. 𝖰𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖾𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗂́𝗏𝗂𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗌 “𝖿𝗂𝗑𝖾𝗌”, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖼̧𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗂𝗍𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗁𝗈𝗌 𝖾𝗆 𝖼𝗂𝗆𝖺 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼̧𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗂𝖼̧𝖺.
𝖮𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖺̃𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗈𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗁𝗈𝗌. 𝖳𝖺̃𝗈 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗁𝗈𝗌 𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌. 𝖠𝗍𝖾́ 𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗆 𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗀𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗈. 𝖭𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗈, 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗂 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗆 𝖺 𝗃𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝗈 𝗏𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗁𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝖾𝖻𝗈𝗅, 𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗆 “𝗅𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗁𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗈 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖺́𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾”. 𝖯𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖺́𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾?! 𝖧𝖺́ 𝗃𝗂𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖼̧𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗌.
𝖳𝗎𝖽𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗆. 𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖺, 𝖢𝖺́𝗍𝗂𝖺. 𝖯𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗈. 𝖵𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝗏𝖺𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺̃𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺 𝖽𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝖺 𝖺́𝗅𝗀𝖾𝖻𝗋𝖺 𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖺́𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺. 𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖺. 𝖤 𝖾𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖼̧𝖺 𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖺 𝖾𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝟣𝟧 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗆𝖺̃𝗈 𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗋𝖺 𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗆 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖿𝗈 𝖾 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝗎𝗆 𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝟣𝟩𝟢 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗉𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗆. 𝖮 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗓 𝗌𝗈́ 𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗁𝖺 𝖺 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖼̧𝖺 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝖾 𝗈 𝖾𝗑𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎𝖾́𝗆 𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗃𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗂𝗑𝖺 𝖽𝖾 “𝖯𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺 𝖽𝖺 𝖱𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺” 𝗇𝗈 𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖺́𝗋𝗂𝗈. 𝖬𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈 𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼̧𝗈. 𝖡𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗌!
“𝖰𝗎𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗈?” 𝖯𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝗈𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝖺𝖽𝖺. 𝖭𝗎𝗆 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗈, 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗉𝖺𝗅 𝖾́ 𝗅𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗈, 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖺̃𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝖲𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈. 𝖤 𝖿𝗈𝗂 𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗎. “𝖤 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝗈̂𝗋 𝗎𝗆 𝖻𝗈𝖼𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖺́𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾?” 𝖮𝗅𝗁𝖾𝗂 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈. 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗂. 𝖤𝗋𝖺 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗌. 𝖠𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓. 𝖡𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗈. 𝖢𝗈𝗆. 𝖯𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗌. 𝖮𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗓𝖾𝗂 𝗎𝗇𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖿𝗈, 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗂-𝗅𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗎𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂 𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖼𝖺. 𝖭𝖺̃𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗅, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗏𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗓𝗂𝖽𝗈, 𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖼̧𝖺𝗏𝖺 𝖾𝗋𝖺, 𝗌𝖾𝗆 𝖽𝗎́𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖺, 𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗌𝖺𝖼̧𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖾𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗉𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗎 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝖺𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺́𝗏𝖾𝗅 𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝖾𝗆 𝗅𝗈𝗂𝖼̧𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗏𝗈𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗋-𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖼𝖺.
𝖮 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗈 𝖾́ 𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 “𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖺́𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾”? 𝖤𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗏𝖺𝗌-𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗌 𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗋 𝖺́𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾? 𝖭𝖺̃𝗈, 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈. 𝖲𝖺̃𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗂𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗌, 𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖺 𝗏𝗂 𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝖻𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼̧𝖺̃𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗑𝖾𝗇𝗈𝖿𝗈𝖻𝗂𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗂𝗌. 𝖦𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂́𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗈. 𝖦𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗏𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗆 𝖾́ 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗂𝖺. 𝖨𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗈 𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗋 𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈. 𝖢𝗁𝖾𝗀𝗈𝗎 𝗈 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 “𝖮 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗎 𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗍𝗋𝖺́𝗌. 𝖣𝗂𝗓 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗑𝖺𝖻𝗂𝖽𝗈” 𝖾 𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈 “𝖮́ 𝖵𝗂́𝗍𝗈𝗋, 𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗂́ 𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝖽𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗆 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗈? 𝖤𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖺 𝖺𝗂́ 𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗈!”. 𝖦𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝖽𝖺 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺? 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈. 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺, 𝗏𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗎 𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 “𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖺̀ 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖺” 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗎 𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗂𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖯𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗅 𝖾 𝖤𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺.
𝖯𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗌𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼̧𝗈, 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖺. 𝖣𝖾𝖾𝗆-𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖺. 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗎𝗆 𝖺𝖼̧𝖺𝖿𝗋𝖺̃𝗈, 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖺𝗆𝖾̂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺, 𝗌𝗂𝗋𝗏𝖺𝗆-𝗇𝗈 𝗇𝗎𝗆 𝗍𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗋, 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗂. 𝖬𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝖾́ 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖺𝗋. 𝖯𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗂 𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗋: “𝖯𝗈𝗋𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗈 𝖾́ 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖼𝖺 𝗇𝖺 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗏𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗂́𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝖽𝖺 𝗂𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗃𝖺 𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖺 𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓”? 𝖳𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈. 𝖲𝖾 𝖾́ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗋 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗂𝖼̧𝖺̃𝗈 𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗈, 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗂́𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 “𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓 𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗁𝖺̃𝗈”. 𝖤́ 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗏𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼̧𝖺𝗋 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗇𝖺̃𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗅, 𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗂𝗍𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗃𝗈𝗌. 𝖤𝗎 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗂. 𝖠𝗀𝗈𝗋𝖺 𝖾́ 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗆 𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗌.
* Humorista
IN "JORNAL DE NOTÍCIAS" - 24/09/23 .
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário