Caneta:
Três meses depois..
O sol da tarde batia no portão de ferro laranja queimado, igual brasa em cima, o rabisco do Breninho: "Oficina Florela & Cia conserto garantido, bom humor nem sempre." A tinta preta ainda escorria coisa dele orgulho de moleque...
A oficina era de tijolo parede firme, chão grosso……
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