O Mundo Г‰ Um Moinho -

Alice looked at him, and for a second, the bravado faded. She saw the deep lines on his face—the map of a man who had been through the mill himself. "But I have to see for myself," she whispered.

Alice paused, her hand on the doorknob. "You're just old, Jorge. You're afraid of everything." O Mundo Г‰ Um Moinho

"Listen to me for just a moment," he said. "I know that look. It’s a fever. You think the lights of the city are stars, but they are just lamps that burn out by dawn." Alice looked at him, and for a second, the bravado faded

"Alice," he said softly. His voice sounded like dry leaves. "You’re going to the Lapa arches tonight?" Alice paused, her hand on the doorknob

Jorge stepped into the room. He didn’t try to grab her arm or block the door. Instead, he sat on the edge of her bed.

"The world is waiting, Jorge!" she laughed, spinning around. "Music, dancing, people who don't spend their lives looking at the pavement. I want to live."

"You think you’re going toward love," Jorge continued, his voice trembling slightly. "But every kiss you give away tonight to a stranger will take a piece of your soul that you can never buy back. You’ll wake up one day, and you won’t recognize the woman in that glass. You’ll be just another grain of wheat the mill has crushed."