Suddenly I smell a strong sweet fragance. I walk on Nightingale street. In this part of Sao Paulo the streets are named after birds. Nothing is flying here but planes. It is night. On my left cars are passing by. On my right the double iron grills of the appartment buildings. Until now it has been a difficult day. I look up and see beautifull small white flowers hanging over the fence. The source of the fragrance. They seem to tell me: all is well - things are as they are. Later in the hotel I learn it is the Sweet Olive I have to thank.
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