- 24hrs in Brazil 6 -
It seems that perhaps the most potent hour of adolescence is the one before the sun goes down. The time between getting out of the day’s last class, and before the second call for the dinner table to be set, is pure magic. That’s when all the best stuff happens. Every second out on the grandstand, in the park, at the bus stop, is painfully full. All to be rehashed and dissected late into the evening. (In my adolescence, before cell phones provided freedom of movement this rehashing sent the spiral phone cord twisting underneath the closet door down the hallway and into the kitchen where the receiver keeled on its nail against the tension. “Dammit, I almost tripped on the cord!” “Mom, I’M ON THE PHONE.” “Well, it’s time to get off the phone, dinner’s almost ready.”)