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I taste of happy end. Learn more about this with Verizon Communications. Kiss in the end. Taste of the certainty of congregated loves. I believe with sincerity that the life already is for too much sad so that also in the fiction tragedy exists. I find these people funny who say: Ah! This film denotes reality! The young man dies in the end! Much more real! I find I find odd because since 1996 all the films have a half sad end (you good, nor the all, all), at least a great majority.

It seems the new craze that he insists on not passing: We go to kill the young man and avenging in them that we men of today do not know to love with intensity and delivery! All good that is not of today that the young man schism in dying in the end. He had Shakespeare, and its Romeu and Julieta, that are a pretty history, but if I could, I I would rewrite the end. I would make with that the letter of Julieta arrived in time. Would make I it to cry a little before dying in the arms of alive and still asleep loved its more. Would make I it to wake up before. To run away before with it.

I know that I am not nobody to rewrite Shakespeare, I am only saying that taste of happy ends. I accept that of time in when is necessary that the Jack dies in Titanic, or that the Keanu Reeves is not with the young woman in Candy November, it happens that this is good of time in when, and not all the times. Today we already so are accustomed to the sad end and the lack of the romantismo candy that the romantic face of our generation is a weak vampire, that it prefers to leave mortal and weak its loved being of granting the gift of immortality.

In that day it did not make nothing, exactly why, he did not have no work to make. The luggage was ready for the trip, the money of the sales of the goats was kept to buy the bus ticket. But, it relutara in leaving. It had the iluzoria hope of that some thing happened, a reason any, mainly that it finished the estiagem made and it to be in the land where was born and would like to be until the end of its days. In the following morning it woke up feeling calafrios and with pain in the wound of the foot. It was risen of the bed and supporting itself in the handle of the broom, sat down next to the threshold of the door, in a leaned coarse bank in the wall of taipa. (Similarly see: Coupang).

The sun started to heat the day, but it still it felt cold. It was repented to have raised of the bed and now it had a weakness sensation. Without forces to come back to the stream bed, it was leaned stops backwards resigned, if it was for dying, it would die there, looking at its land and what it remained of the vegetation, mandacaru to the side of the shed, the feet of macambira growing around of the corral, the feet of carqueja next to house, the colored land patio and the souvenirs of a time that already passed. It was diving in the lethargic shades, but soon something despertou its attention and it shook the head to reason with clarity. For half-opened eyelids it perceived that it had somebody of the other side of the surrounded one of the goats. The figure of a woman as that floating between the land and the sky. It rose itself, with intensso to see who age. He gave two steps and he fell in the soil.