Ok, neste meio tempo, um conto meu publicado em um site Inglês (3ammagazine). Eu sei, a velha Inglaterra não é mais a mesma.
By Emerson Wiskow (trans. Steven Porter)
The sun latched onto Central Market like a soft glove. Downtown Porto Alegre. 22nd August, 2007. Susy and Carol go into the market. The pumpkin-faced shop assistant is packing some goods, he eyes up the women closely and continues with his work. Through the pane of glass the soft warm sun slid down. Only the shop assistant and the two women remain in the market. He thinks about something on seeing them. He thinks about them and imagines something. A few seconds of total silence. Then the sound of the women’s footsteps and the shop assistant sealing the brown parcel. The door opens. Two men enter. EVERYONE IN THE CORNER!! AAhhhh!!! FACE THE WALL!…A poster of Clint Eastwood on the wall. The shop assistant feels a shiver down his spine and looks at the men, the women, and the poster. Clint Eastwood with a flicker of a grin, holding a revolver, the hat resting carefully on his forehead. THE TRAMP THERE, YOU WITH THE FACE OF AN AMERICAN PORN ACTRESS! They both look at him… Unsure which one the man is addressing. He’s holding the weapon. They don’t know what type of gun it is. They think it could be a 38. They are mistaken. The other man approaches the till. THE MONEY!! The shop assistant trembles. THE MONEY!! He opens the till, takes the lot. THE BUSTY BLONDE! YOU! The blonde walks towards the man holding the automatic. She walks slowly. QUICKLY, TRAMP! He gets her tits out, lifts her blouse. A large firm breast with a pink areola and stiff nipple emerges. He sucks. The shop assistant turns away and looks at the face of the one holding the gun, observing him. The shop assistant thinks of the pretty breasts, the other woman watches, he hears the women’s hearts beating strongly. They are terror-stricken, the shop assistant can’t stop his legs from shaking. One of the men puts the money in a bag, the other keeps sucking the blonde’s tit before pushing her aside and heading for the shelves. He lifts a few packets of potato chips, two bottles of whisky. The shop assistant receives a blow to the head, blood oozes out and he doesn’t feel it. The men run away. Do you want one? – asks one of the men now seated in a car crossing the city. Fuck, no! The one making the offer is stuffing his face with crisps. I love these potato chips! Fuck! Did you see the tits on that tramp?! In the market, the two women and the shop assistant try to recover from the assault. Clint Eastwood keeps smiling on the poster.