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Marcos Morasck
É professor e escritor, tendo publicado obras voltadas para o público juvenil desde 2007, dentre elas “O diário das eras” e “Pedras da meia-noite”.


In my job, some days are good, some days are bad.  That day was a horrible day in my life until the moment when I left the meeting room.  I had decided go to the bathroom.  I needed it as far as I needed a break. The meeting was boring. It sounded like a procession, slow, without happiness and colored by suffering.  

The lawyer was talking and talking.  However, I knew he didn’t believe his long speech would make any sense to those men.  He was acting his role, but he didn’t have any feeling in his eyes.  His lifeless eyes made me angry.  Because of it, I said to myself repeatedly: “You are going to last one more hour. The end of the day is close, so close”. 

I had worked the most of the day on the rules for the asylum checkers competition, and then I had to listen to this lawyer talk nonsense.  It was a kind of thing that only happens in the boondocks as mine, a place that was forgotten by all the Olympus gods. Impatiently, I had scrawled on the last page of my agenda and the conversation in the room didn’t show any sign of improving.  I had drawn a beach on a sunny day where the birds were flying and singing.  I looked at my own picture and I asked for some movement, for some adventure, for anything better. I wanted an exciting day and my wishes came true as if I snapped my fingers. 

In the hall, when I was walking to the bathroom, I realized that all the coworkers had already gone home.  It was Friday afternoon and people were concerned about the city’s anniversary celebration the next day.  Unlike all my neighbors and friends, I didn’t like these kind of parties.  Therefore, I had no plans for my Saturday. 

I entered the bathroom stall and I just closed the door when I noticed it locked.  I tried to open it and, immediately, I thought about my cell phone. It was in my desk drawer. “Don’t worry! Someone is going to appear”, I said to myself confidently. The time was different: a minute was like an hour. My confidence disappeared in a few seconds and I had a panic attack. I shouted, knocked on the door, but nobody listened to” me.  Tired, I sat down on the toilet and took a deep breath. 

I started thinking about my options. First: another woman would come to the bathroom and she would save me.  We would go to a cafeteria to celebrate, we would laugh together and we would tell people the story.   Second: Nobody would listen to me and I would stay there until Monday.  I would not die, but being stuck was not my favorite holiday program… and if I died in that locked bathroom? I started considering and I remembered Agatha Christie’s novels.  I asked myself if there would be an intelligent detective who could solve the mystery of my death.  Then, I don’t know why, I thought about Tom Cruise, I would die without giving him a kiss.  Mission Impossible, my mind exploded and brought me the name of my favorite movie.  How would Ethan Hunt escape from a locked bathroom in a small town?  Answer number one: using technology devices. I had none. (Why didn’t I think about MacGyver?) Answer number two: using special training. Failed again!  Answer number three: passing under the door… wait!

 There was a space between the door and the floor.  I was so nervous that I hadn’t realized it yet.  The space was not too large, but I’m a petite person. It was enough. I laid down on the dirty floor and I crawled slowly to freedom, like a secret agent. 

I felt some mixed feelings, the biggest of them was gratitude. I was alive and free. 

When I came back to the meeting room, only the lawyer was there. 

“Where were you?” he asked me. 

 “I was saving a life.” 

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