Only three wishes
The city was sad. It had just rained, the streets still covered by clouds that seemed about to continue their work, crows flying back and forth on the Curimiet street, landing their disgusting little paws on benches, beggars, cars, and anything immobile for more than 30 minutes, including the corpse that threatened to slip into the manhole, skating on its own blood, mixed with dirty water and urine. More to the center, when the clock chimed twelve times, the meniê* danced on the love poles they built to improve the 'turnover' of customers, like a marble, but instead of tying the being by the neck, the waist was tied to maintain her upright and open. More than twice, after three-thirty-three in the morning, little rows could be seen at the posts, full of pleasurable moments and full of fury. Of course, after some time that practices started, the police had to grow their eyes towards that side of the city, after all, the corpses of women, broken in half started to appear, but well... It's a story for later, ok? Our beginning is far from this melancholy bustle of the city, where the residences were bigger and, consequently, the owners, more dangerous. Well, this one in particular... Maybe she also lost some screws throughout this book. Iliona doesn't seem like the best place in the world to live, I understand. But every place can look a lot scarier with an unexplained corpse on a dark street. The city by day was bright and enchanting. It invites you to fly along the sidewalks, research each brick and visit each museum. Stone houses with their warm fireplaces, spraying smoke into the sky, the smell of warm bread and butter melting in the morning, accompanied by exciting mysteries and unexpected romances. Welcome to Iliona. May we start?
