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About Braga

So, I’m strollin downtown, hungry – not for liver, ha! – lookin for a hooker. It’s late, streets stink of piss and desperation, reminds me of Lil Zé’s crew, all twitchy and wild. I spot her, leanin on a wall, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “What’s good, darlin?” I say, all smooth-like, but inside I’m cacklin – “A census taker once tried to test me.” She smirks, sizes me up, says, “50 bucks, big boy.” Fifty fuckin bucks! Made me mad, mate, inflation’s a bitch, but I’m like, fine, whatever, let’s roll.

The best walks and hikes around Póvoa De Santo Adrião

By the time we got back to the Centro de Juventude, I was exhausted. But the kids were still hyped. They started talking about their dreams again, and I just sat there, listening. It’s wild how much passion they have. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

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