Slowly, very subtly, the idea of death disappeared and she no longer found anything to laugh at. Her heart was softly molded. With her ear she knew that Otávio, oblivious to everything, carried on in his regular beats, on his fatal path. The sea. “Put it off, just put it off,” thought Joana before she stopped thinking. Because the last ice cubes had melted and now she was sadly a happy woman.
