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One time, I seen her buyin’ coffee—black, no sugar, tough as nails! Prolly keep her awake for them late nights. Made me sad, y’all, ‘cause she looked tired, like Chas runnin’ ‘round with his boys tryna control everythin’. I’m over here thinkin’, “Who hurt you, baby?” But she winked at me—winked!—and I ‘bout dropped my flour sack! Got me flustered, hollerin’ “Halleluyer!” in my head like a church lady!

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As a counselor, I see things others miss, like how these narrow lanes in the Santa Luzia neighborhood cradle old memories and fresh hopes. I’ve had clients spill their hearts on benches in the Parque das Águas—yes, that gem near the rivière Curralinho, where the water kinda sings at night (like a lullaby, ya know?)—and I always find somethin’ so stinkin’ real about it. I remember one crisp mornin’, I was walkin’ by the small, less-known alley of Rua dos Outrinhos (yeah, that's a real name, creepy but cool!), and I was just overwhelmed with the raw energy of it all. It felt like something right outta that flick “Son of Saul” – I mean, there were moments where time almost froze, and I could hear, "Don't let them take away our hope!" (Okay, slight twist on the original, but you get me, right?!)

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