- Joined
- May 25, 2025
- Messages
- 7
Earlier today, just before heading to my internship, I met up with Laís, a master’s student I hadn’t seen in a while. We had planned to meet at the university canteen. She was already waiting in the common area when I arrived.
I walked up to her with a smile and greeted her warmly:
“Hey, beautiful one.”
We hadn’t seen each other in a long time. We embraced, full of emotion. She was radiant, smiling wide, eyes lit up. I gently guided her toward the table, and we sat side by side.
As we talked, I touched her arm, elbow, and upper back in subtle ways, calm, natural. She welcomed it.
She started explaining why she’d gone quiet recently.
She brought it up suddenly. She told me her research had hit a wall and she had to redo everything. The stress had swallowed her time and energy. During that period, she could only manage some texting here and there.
She also mentioned my poetry book draft. She loved it. Said it surprised her, in a good way. I told her I was still just an undergrad, yes, but also a writer. That seemed to move her.
At one point, she opened up about her childhood, Ilhéus, Uberlândia, her roots. I smiled and said:
“So you’re from Jorge Amado’s land.”
She liked that. We talked about Ribeirão Preto, her daily life now, and how religion shaped her, adding quickly she wasn’t a fanatic. Just someone who believes.
After lunch, we walked to the bus stop. The street buzzed with noise, but there was a soft kind of stillness around us. When my Uber arrived, we embraced once more. Then a kiss, brief, gentle, full of breath and memory.
And then I was gone with the warm wind.
I walked up to her with a smile and greeted her warmly:
“Hey, beautiful one.”
We hadn’t seen each other in a long time. We embraced, full of emotion. She was radiant, smiling wide, eyes lit up. I gently guided her toward the table, and we sat side by side.
As we talked, I touched her arm, elbow, and upper back in subtle ways, calm, natural. She welcomed it.
She started explaining why she’d gone quiet recently.
She brought it up suddenly. She told me her research had hit a wall and she had to redo everything. The stress had swallowed her time and energy. During that period, she could only manage some texting here and there.
She also mentioned my poetry book draft. She loved it. Said it surprised her, in a good way. I told her I was still just an undergrad, yes, but also a writer. That seemed to move her.
At one point, she opened up about her childhood, Ilhéus, Uberlândia, her roots. I smiled and said:
“So you’re from Jorge Amado’s land.”
She liked that. We talked about Ribeirão Preto, her daily life now, and how religion shaped her, adding quickly she wasn’t a fanatic. Just someone who believes.
After lunch, we walked to the bus stop. The street buzzed with noise, but there was a soft kind of stillness around us. When my Uber arrived, we embraced once more. Then a kiss, brief, gentle, full of breath and memory.
And then I was gone with the warm wind.
