5 de setembro de 2008


They spent the day there, sitting among the boxes and crates. You have not talked to me, he said.
I’m talking.
Are you sure?
I’m talking now.
Do you want me to tell you a story?
Why not?
The boy looked at him and looked away.
Why not?
Those stories are not true.
They dont have to be true. They’re stories.
Yes. But in the stories we’re always helping people and we dont help people.
Why dont you tell me a story?
I dont want.
I dont have any stories to tell.
You could tell me a story about yourself.
You always know all the stories about me. You were there.
You have stories inside that I dont know about.
You mean like dreams?
Like dreams. Or just things that you think about.
Yeah, but stories are supposed to be happy.
They dont have to be.
You always tell happy stories.
You dont have any happy ones?
They’re more like real life.
But my stories are not.
Your stories are not. No.
The man watched him. Real life is pretty bad?
What do you think?
Well, I think we’re still here. A lot of bad things have happened but we’re still here.
You dont think that’s so great.
It’s okay.

Cormac McCarthy em “The Road”

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