Paulo Seabra

Se fosse para te falar agora mesmo, o que poderia dizer? Começa pelo início, digo eu a mim mesmo, mas o início é o quê? Não tive uma vida triste mas nunca tive um dia feliz. Procuro pelas minhas memórias mais antigas mas a própria procura escapa-me, e não consigo viajar mais longe do que o início do primeiro semestre. Como é que terá sido esse tempo para ti, pergunto-me... Eu lembro-me de encontrar o sol matinal no meu quarto, quebrado em mil raios pelos ramos de uma árvore à janela cujas folhas verdes assobiavam ao vento. Às vezes esqueço-me de mim próprio antes disso, como se a minha infância não tivesse sido mais do que um sonho, e até custa acreditar que aquele quarto era como que o mesmo que este. Mas aquele dia foi ocasião de estar alegre. O quarto estava vazio de mim mas cheio de possibilidades. Em cima da minha secretária estava um pano esquecido que me fez aperceber de que o quarto tinha sido limpo recentemente, deixando uma nuvem de verniz no ar, um aroma simples e clássico, ...

He followed her through the narrow corridors, glancing at the rooms, and as he went he could see what she had meant before. The house really was empty, and the echoes of each step were the only permissible sounds. Apart from that it was hushed, like in an old temple. She led him to the end of the hallway, stood on the staircase to the upper floor, and pointed him to the stairs leading down into the dark basement. – Over there... I will be upstairs. Take what you need, detective. I no longer have any use for it. Just know that whatever you leave behind will likely soon be destroyed. I shall not stay here any longer than I have to. – Thank you. Philip turned the door handle. He wanted to do it softly so as to not disturb her anymore but the hinges were stuck, much like Michael's desk, weirdly oily and slimy, so he had to force it open. As he descended the air became colder. The stairs were dark at first but becoming increasingly lit. When he was down there he saw the gray light comin...

I ain't know much about business. I kinda should but I just don't. I've spent a decent chunk of my life writing books, and then a smaller chunk writing blog articles. Here and there I've gotten a little bit of attention from people, but sadly not as much of it as I'd like, and so the idea of earning a living from this thing of mine is still a very far-off dream... Regardless, I intend to insist on it. I've written three books and one hundred and thirty-four blog articles, including this very one, and while I intend to work something out, to put myself out there a little bit and earn a real living, I'd also like to finally get some eyes going over my words. For that reason my next two blog articles will be a lengthy series of excerpts from my first and second books respectively, something that I probably should have done a long time ago and subsequently have left as visible as possible. I haven't yet because I'm an idiot but hey, it is what it is... B...