Deve ser isto viver, não ter tempo nem vontade para o blogue. Os meus favoritos autores, músicos e actores estão acampados nesta cidade até ao final de Agosto. O mundo está lá fora, esperem só mais um pouquinho. Entretanto, deixo aqui uma breve de uma das histórias que ouvi no teatro aqui há dias:
In the beginning, he used to kiss her as if he was breathing from her heart. Then, kissing just felt like a touch on the lips. Then it progressed to a hug; some time later it was just as if he was giving her a pat on the back. And one day she woke up to find that the kiss was like a stranger nodding to her, from across the street. She knew it was over.
Daniel Kitson, Stories for the wobbly hearted at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh.

