Pieces of Memory I

by Fernando Gil Paiva

Once upon a time (when I was 5), my godmother invited me to go to the circus that, once in a while, arrived there in Itumbiara, state of Goias. It wasn’t a huge one, but it was the animal kind. That day they brought a baby giraffe that was very tall, by the way. Then they needed volunteers… My godmother made me rise up my arms and they called me there close to the giraffe. They put a bread in my hand and a gigantic tongue came out of its mouth and I felt it embracing the food. I could just feel that and not do anything else. Experiences – I fed a baby giraffe. Consequences -my hand wet for the rest of the show.

Two years later or so, I started writing in a notebook that I won. Each page was a little story. Sometimes I use to write once a day, sometimes twice a day. More years ahead, I found a story about a lonely giraffe that was envious about the type of food she received in the zoo. And her big question of life: why do lions get the meat while I don’t? Well, something like this. I’ll try to rescue some of these pearls from bygone. And, maybe someday, one of them will appear here by chance.