Tonight we eat, drink, pray, sleep, on this, the last day of Florida. Tomorrow it will be gone, Fort Meyers, the town where my grandfather died. My grandfather took us fishing on the gulf. We caught blowfish and threw them back. My grandfather was as cold and absent as those fish. He gave my brother and I turns to pilot the boat. When it was my turn, my brother deliberately told me the wrong way to push the throttle, so that I almost capsized the boat. I never got another chance. My brother did that for spite and envy. We were children. He was a broken child. Now he is a broken man, and my grandfather is dead. I was not invited to the funeral. I have never been to a funeral.
We went to Disneyworld once. It was supposed to be amazing. But I had lived in the Leblon region of Rio De Janeiro, I had been to Carnaval in Rio when I was five years old, so why would I think Disneyworld is amazing?
Tomorrow the storm comes and obliterates it all. Disneyworld and my grandfather's grave that I have never seen will merge with coral reefs in a shallow sea. But what I lost in Florida, I lost a long time ago.
