She has flown!

 

As I search for the words to honor this poet, writer, director of UBE (Brazilian Writers' Union), creator and editor of Voo Livre ( Free Flying literal translation – a literary magazine)magazine, organizer of Mulherio de SP (Women Writers of São Paulo), professor and, above all, friend, Marina Marino, the sister that literature gave me, I have to stop, wipe away the tears and breathe after each word typed.

Twin sisters, many say, including our blood sisters. At the Biennial (Book Fair) in Ceará last year, our nickname was "the MMs of SP". I was mistaken for Marina several times at events. I received a warm hug, as she was a dear friend, and my response was always: "She's the one you're looking for," and I would point to Marina, who always smiled affectionately, already knowing what had happened. We laughed a lot when people mixed us up.

 I met Marina online during the pandemic when we were going to present an event together for the Scortecci publishing house (in fact, in several anthologies, it was Marina and then Meire). Back then, we both had blonde hair. When we first met in person, it was like a gathering of long-time friends, however, we had red hair, without having previously mentioned that we were going to change our hair color. What a coincidence!

If I had to describe Marina in one word, it would be generous. She opened many doors for lovers of literature, especially for female writers. She planted many seeds. She knew how to give that extra push needed.

I became a poet, columnist, and moderator of discussion groups thanks to her push: gratitude! I met many incredible people through the light that is Marina.

Oh, my friend, sister in literature… how I miss you. But I know Marina is much better, flying free and in peace. 🌟🕊🤍

26/04/2026

 Written: April 27, 2026

Photo: Personal files

A Ride in a Taxi…

 

There are times when I take a cab in SP, I listen to several noteworthy and peculiar stories. There are those drivers that do not enjoy chatting, meanwhile others pour their hearts out about family, events, funny or sad situations, and other passengers. I particularly enjoy these chats. It seems like the trip is shorter than when it is total silence.

Yesterday, my usual driver forgot we had scheduled a run; therefore, I needed to call another driver. It would be an 18-minute drive to where I was going. We greeted each other and he started mentioning some of his pick-ups.

He mentioned that once he picked up a client who wanted to be driven to and from the international airport, which would mean a longer drive depending on traffic. As he was driving there, the passenger told him that he was going to send his dead uncle to Italy. It seemed like he had to go there and sign the dispatch papers.

 Since the driver did not know the passenger, he said he would accompany him inside the airport. This driver had lost money several times prior to this event when people asked him to wait and then disappeared. He mentioned one time when he drove a woman to a bank and she asked him to wait while she went inside to withdraw the cash to pay him. He waited and waited, but she left the bank through another door, and he just ended up losing all the money and time.

Back to the airport. He said they went into the airport and followed the passenger to the basement. The driver had never been in the basement and didn´t even imagine it existed. The basement had a section for the Federal Police, the Civil Police, and the airport administration. To get into the area, they took his picture and checked documentation.

However, where were they going?

The air was extremely cold, and he wished he had brought a jacket. The passenger asked him if he had a problem with corpses. He shook his head. Ahead of them was a large cold room within it, many coffins lined up and waiting to be picked up or shipped off. The person in charge rolled his uncle´s caste to them, opened it up and checked the body front and back for drugs or other objects that could be transported in a dead body.

After signing the paperwork, they placed the casket in an iron box, labeled it and off they were. The box would be on its way later that week to Italy and the family there would pick it up and conduct the burial service. A very profitable ride indeed, both in money and information.

 

Written: April 14, 2026

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