Free The Girl in the Photograph by Lygia Fagundes Telles

And she even—. She must think I’m a whore. So what.
     I’ll bury myself in money take my courses buy a laboratory just like that one. The
     colored water dripping and me green yellow blue ah I’ll dye myself in an ocean. An
     ocean, love. I’m floating off and the green tongues of the fish are licking my feet.
     I laugh because the green tongues are licking me my legs no! I cry covering myself
     because the biggest tongue licks my abdomen and penetrates me so warm ah love. I love
     you. As happy as.
    “We could go live someplace stupid like Ireland. Why Ireland? I don’t know either,
     just Ireland. Hanh? There’s money coming.”
    She opened her eyes and focused them gradually on the young man. He was smoking and
     smiling vaguely.
    “What time is it? What time is it, Max?”
    “We didn’t come here to get up-tight. Throw everything to the wind, fabulous. An island.”
    She grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and smoked.
    The shorter coat would look great with velvet slacks. She could pay for it in five
     installments. Ten. Bastard. Queer. He couldn’t forgive her because she was beautiful
     and had breasts. “Flatten down that chest, flatten it!” he yelled at the showing and
     everybody laughed. Hatred, he was hateful because he wished he had breasts and didn’t.
     It doesn’t matter. The scaly one will give me a shipload of coats. Three factories.
     He’ll want a virgin. So what? I’ll stuff myself full of baby oil and he’ll find one
     when we go to bed. I could model for Marcil too and he’d give me the little black
     suit or—. Brando will go crazy but I’ll tell him give me the coat then.
    “Quick, Bunny! Give me your mouth!”
    I give him my mouth give him everything. But tense scratch scratch. And if I am. Lena
     will pay for plastic surgery but she doesn’t have a bag of gold does she? I need yenom
     yenom Mother Alix said she’d pay. Take money from a saint and give it to the Turk,
     group analysis for godssake. Stupidity. Next year I start over. And I can pay for
     individual treatment thank you sir. Thinking I wanted to go to bed. Pretentious Turk.
     “I’m married,very happily married. My wife is a geisha.” Geisha geisha. I’ll bet she puts horns
     on him twenty-four hours a day. Well done. It wouldn’t be any good anyway because
     one loses respect for them, look what happened with that dumbass. Crazier than me
     that one there. Psychiatrist, shit. How could he help me? Even a baby. You’ll see,
     I am again. That’s just it, not to feel any pleasure and on top of it all, What day
     is today? The twenty-sixth? Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine …
     does this month have thirty-one days?
    “Max, does this month have thirty-one days?”
    “Come here, Bunny, I want your mouth.”
    I open my arms. He falls onto my chest. Yes I love you. So. To get rich. Get rich.
     You were once and nha-nha was too. I’d like to try it may I? Lena said she’d loan
     it to me she’s sweet Lena. Generous. She offered to come with me and hold my hand.
     The scaly one wants a virgin. He’s had his fun with every whore in town but when it
     comes to. Bastard. All right. If you really insist, I’ll become a virgin. What if
     I asked him to loan me the yenom? Why not. Doesn’t a girl have the right to ask her
     fiancé for a little loan? I’ll tell him it’s for an urgent operation and he’ll ask
     me what operation there’s nobody in the world who can ask more questions. He’ll ask
     me and I’ll say I need to have my tonsils out my tonsils are rotten my appendix is
     rotten ah how depressing. And this one here who doesn’t resolve anything.
    “I’m cold, Max, cover me. Cover me, love,” she said. She shivered beneath the young
     man’s body. “It’s freezing.”
    He found the woolen blanket among the tangled bedclothes and pulled it up, covering
     his head. The ends of the fringe reached Ana Clara’s shoulders. He closed the opening
     of the tent in up-and-down