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About Rio de Janeiro

But—ugh—stinks sometimes. Sweat, booze, desperation—grim. “Can you feel the silence?” Wiesler’d whisper. Yeah, I feel it—between moans, it’s eerie. Dark shit hides there—trafficking, coercion. Pisses me off, mortals fuckin’ up a good thing. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but brothels got layers, mate.

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I gotta mention, err, the little café near Rua da Lua. The one with the best pastel and exotic teas. I'm telling ya, it's a secret hangout – well, a not-so-secret one now. I might even have spilled a bit of tea there, figuratively speaking, ha!

Figure 1. Distribution of Cercosaura olivacea, highlighting the...