Another sun-piercing afternoon in that harsh paved hill-like road of Florianópolis.

Honestly, I would have been relaxed about the whole thing, were it not 17:00 in the afternoon, an ambiguous hour in Santa Catarina, Brazil. It was too soon for the moon to show up, but the Sun was just waiting for our eyes to flicker so it could sneak out of the sky.

Well, I was lost, again.

I had descended at the wrong stop, yet again. I was starting to doubt my intentions. I told myself, “no, Celma, be adventurous! This is an opportunity to take a walk!” Not when you’re in Brazil, and you were told that every street wanderer will either rob, rape, kill or give you a stinky look.

I must say, though comforting the sight of after-school kids throwing their kites on in the high sky, my feet walked in places I knew I had walked before. I was walking in circles, or triangles, I don’t know.

The young kids’ mothers sitting and discussing their musings, looking at me, not knowing whether to offer to help, or to simply let me wander as I had been. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

He was starting to walk funny. So, as my instinct told me at the time, I decided to cross the road, for what was one supposed to do! There was, suddenly, to my right, a dodgy-looking male, who seemed to either want to reach the same destination as I, or following me. The former could not be, for I was lost!

I crossed the road alright, but his eyes kept pursuing me, though cars would often interrupt the motion.

I began walking faster, and he behind me continued, also fastening his pace. He eventually crossed the road until I found him by my side. At last attempt I stopped to cross the road again, to the side where he wasn’t, when he stopped me with a giggle,

“Are you running away from me? I’m also lost!”

We laughed and continued being lost together.