Status Updates From Fome (Portuguese Edition)

I took down the person's address and prayed silently to God for this job - I would ask less than anyone else for the work, fifty øre was plenty, or perhaps forty øre, come what may.

'Lord, my God and Father!' I cried in agony, and I repeated this cry several times in succession without adding a word.

As I sat there on the bench pondering all this, I felt increasingly bitter toward God for his continual oppressions. If he meant to draw me closer to himself and make me better by torturing me and casting adversity my way, he was simply mistaken, that I could vouch for. And nearly crying with defiance, I looked up toward heaven and told him so once and for all, inwardly.