Phantom Bite

Vice had left the city three days ago, but if he looked behind he could still see São Paulo's buildings rising towards the grey sky like grasping fingers, ringed with neon ads. His thoughts drifted to Ivo and Davi, despite his attempts to distract himself with the months of travel ahead of him before he reached his hometown in the northeast.

That line of thought, however, reminded him of the grandmother he had left behind, years ago. It made him wonder if she was even still alive. She'd been sick when he left. Back then, Vice had entertained thoughts of returning with money and medicine for her.

But he hadn't counted on the city digging her teeth in him and not letting go. He felt the phantom bite even now. A magnetic pull that told him to turn heel and return, even if it meant his death, and possibly that of everyone he loved.

He couldn't make up his mind on whether leaving made him a coward.