Enquanto a princesa dorme (Bianca) (Portuguese Edition)

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Plant it in an olla that has only been used to make coffee. Water it lightly Tuesdays and Fridays around midnight. It will grow into a plant with black flowers.

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You will be left with a bit of paste resembling congealed blood. Drop this into a bottle of mezcal and let it brew for twenty-eight days. By then you will have a perfume. Sprinkle a few drops on the sheets each time you bring a woman to your bed. If she is the woman you are destined to love, the bed will fly through the window, sail to the shore and at the shore become a boat and disappear at sea. When you wake in the morning, nothing will matter to you.

Toma esta semilla. Si es el amor que te toca, vas a ver que la cama sale volando por la ventana y se va a playa y en la playa se convierte en una barca y se pierde en el mar. Generally speaking, alcohol needs no introduction, so mezcal should be fine. Molcajete was the problem. The sentence describes the grinding done in it, but a molcajete is not just a mortar.

Dime-a-dozen, fair-weather friends—the ones you met to do nothing but sit around, drink beer, and gab. The night we hung out was of the same kind. On one side of the booth sat men who wanted a one night stand. None of the ladies on the other side were seeking Mr. Right, either. You ignore him. When I turned around, the woman was stealing looks left and right.

As drunk as I was, I beamed back. But, as if having expected it, she whipped up a stink-eye, and looked away. The self-proclaimed love designer looked like he had at least a decade over us, with a genial face and a highball glass of tomato juice in front of him. Two of the three stupidities in my life, I do drunk. Through sheer luck I made a massive fortune that no other twenty-something could amass, and that was when I found myself in company of these friends.

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Three years ago, they latched on to help me scatter my money, like sand through fingers. Three years ago, I was a loner—and now I had a small herd following me day and night.


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I guess they thought they were using me: taking advantage. We humans are like an animal that blends into its environment. That night, I noticed the absence of the smiling boy, who had trusted everyone. I used to think life should be interesting. I even indulged in the smallest intrigue to make life interesting: I bought sundry fun-sized toothpastes to try as many flavors as possible.

My friends were also fun. But I yearned for other kinds of fun. At the time, I had bought my first personal computer, and I was addicted to surfing the Web. Every time I was back from that opium-like, fabricate world, I would call my booze friends. Yet, echoing above our usual drunk conversation were those words:. Who knows? Just as the conversation was flowing, the love specialist excused himself and left me with her. Hearing these words stirred not so much my desire but my vindictiveness, so I called on the love designer.

My interlocutor said:. Not an easy game. How about she dream of you in the coming nights? Well, shit, I thought. It was expensive to spite a woman who spurned you. No use counting on days ahead. I thought. Oh, well, whatever.

Get e-book Enquanto a princesa dorme (Bianca) (Portuguese Edition)

I even thought I had picked such an easy woman. She could be dreaming of me. I could be fucking this haughty, cold-shouldered woman, in her dreams. Nevertheless, I kept wondering how exactly it would go down. A subtle shudder took over me; I thought I must be going insane as I forked the money over.


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  8. Bare as you were born. That okay? I thought it no small feat to be staring down a con-artist. In any case, I prevailed the stand-off with dignity. He kept quiet. I was already channeling my Romeo. The next morning, I awoke—shell-shocked from my sensual dream—and lobbed myself off my soiled cover. After dreaming of the coquettish-yet-haughty woman seven days straight, I realized it gave me no pleasure, but sheer dread. Presuming that devils exist, I was all about running away.

    I had been tied down to a large business venture as an investor. A partner said:.

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    I holed up in a foreign country for three months, then in the northwestern-most soum [1] in Arkhangai aimag [2] for two years. I lost my unhelpful, unforthcoming, parasitical friends for good in the process. No sooner had I returned to the capital and turned on my no-longer-trendy cellphone than came a new message. Thinking it was the love designer looking for me, I opened it. Now was the time to renounce the hex. I had to see her and ask everything. The woman had not changed at all. She said I looked tanned, like a country boy. Both of us needed some drinks.

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