United States or Brazil ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Friday morning Joe walked to the farmer's market and bought onions, bok choy, lettuce, and carrots. The prices were good; the locals were cheerful; it was a good deal for everyone. It was late September, and there were fewer tourists around. A lone conga beat tumbled and surged across Kapiolani Park. The smell of grilling teriyaki drifted across the grass. Small cumulus clouds blew out to sea.
The drum was shaped like a miniature conga, handmade with a skin head that was lashed tight. He rested it on his lap and watched cars drive in. Twelve or fifteen people got on the bus, most of them his age or younger, mostly women in twos and threes. Jennifer bounced in and sat beside him. "We'll pick up a few more on the way. There's another group coming down the coast. I hope it doesn't rain.
Innocencia is all that her name implies, and dwells secluded with her father, who is a miner, her negress slave Conga, and her Caliban-like dwarf Tico, who loves Innocencia, the Miranda of this district. Into Innocencia's life comes the itinerant physician, Cirino de Campos, who is called by her father to cure her of the fever.
Stafford's words were playful, but there was, almost unknown to himself, a strange little note of discontent and irony behind. Byng laughed. "But I'll be able to tell her more, perhaps, if I go to my rooms first." "You are going to see her, then?" "Certainly. There's nothing to do till we get news of Jameson at bay in a conga or balled up at a kopje."
Word Of The Day