<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893</id><updated>2011-11-17T21:30:36.416-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mg Writer's Club</title><subtitle type='html'>Este é um clube aberto, pero no mucho. Várias pessoas escrevendo a mesma história. 
Os capítulos são publicados de baixo para cima: primeiro por último, o último primeiro. Mas os links estão em ordem.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>65</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3927757985505118851</id><published>2007-09-28T21:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T23:28:02.320-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversadeira da Sé V</title><summary type='text'>por Alice SallesEra ele de novo.Aquele moço. Tirou o chapéu do mesmo jeito, se abaixou assim como quem pega lenço no chão e já chegou perguntando coisa.  -Sobreviveu à tempestade?Não sei porque raios eu fiquei meio gaga do nada, mas sei que demorou um pouco pros neurônios funcionarem. Assim que percebi que tava devagar dei uma de desentendida, tossi e respondi logo:-Ah sim, claro! Foi uma </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3927757985505118851/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3927757985505118851&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3927757985505118851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3927757985505118851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/09/conversadeira-da-s-v.html' title='Conversadeira da Sé V'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/Rv2c8SKAc7I/AAAAAAAAA30/pQOWkHVrGqY/s72-c/tomboysh2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4162124387246646254</id><published>2007-09-25T20:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T21:00:47.245-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversadeira da Sé - IV</title><summary type='text'>Por Flavia MelissaNaquela noite eu dormi mal à beça. Achei que talvez tivesse sido a rabada que comi na janta, mas no fundo no fundo eu sabia que tinha sido aquele homem. Depois que ele foi embora, o mundo caiu literalmente sobre a minha cabeça; a água invadiu a tenda e só deu tempo de pegar minha bolsa e sair correndo dali com o Zé no colo, na direção do orelhão mais próximo, único lugar coberto</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4162124387246646254/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4162124387246646254&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4162124387246646254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4162124387246646254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/09/conversadeira-da-s-iv.html' title='Conversadeira da Sé - IV'/><author><name>Flavia Melissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06574723482919590272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/SCNGhapQWcI/AAAAAAAAAls/DfHp8x7r3C0/S220/back_2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/RvmfNp-95UI/AAAAAAAAAWo/LnERJNNoExc/s72-c/DSCN5340.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3605844118326443676</id><published>2007-09-25T19:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T19:21:47.373-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversadeira da Sé - III</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes GameiroQuando tudo começou, eu juro ainda era inocente. Eu queria mesmo ajudar toda aquela gente sem rumo e sem esperança. Nem tudo foram receitas de “dor de barriga para merecedores”. Eu inventei simpatias sim. Tá, foram inventadas. Mas todas elas com intenção de ajudar. O universo está careca de saber que as pessoas acreditam em simpatia, e que tudo o que se faz acreditando dá </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3605844118326443676/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3605844118326443676&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3605844118326443676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3605844118326443676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/09/conversadeira-da-s-iii.html' title='Conversadeira da Sé - III'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RvmJjvR1VZI/AAAAAAAAACc/0R9mwiVuJcM/s72-c/Photo+78.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-5174522571306723894</id><published>2007-09-13T09:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T09:37:48.262-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversadeira da Sé – II</title><summary type='text'>   Marcão "Alfred do Além" BrehmE se o povo quer ungüento, que agüente. Não era raro escutar sobre desarranjos intestinais épicos, que acabavam expurgando qualquer tipo de encosto, macumba, mau olhado ou feitiçaria.Com o tempo, acabei descobrindo que enquanto uma mistura causava apenas um leve mal estar, a mesma com alterações sutis, fazia com que o cidadão perdesse qualquer esperança em tornar a</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5174522571306723894/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=5174522571306723894&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/5174522571306723894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/5174522571306723894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/09/conversadeira-da-s-ii.html' title='Conversadeira da Sé – II'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MUpRt7dgYOI/Ruku7UjyXFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/a3GakCtOTt4/s72-c/weissbier.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6363355139219978599</id><published>2007-09-06T15:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T16:52:04.829-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversadeira da Sé - I</title><summary type='text'>por Felipe Belão IubelVou direto ao ponto e fiquem sabendo que a história até fica boa, mas só depois. Meu nome é Hadevinda.Terrível, eu sei.Culpa da minha mãe, mas a vida a castigou e, antes de contar essa parte, quero que todo mundo entenda que não sou insensível. Então, com vocês sabendo disso, eu confesso. Minha mãe se matou a meu pedido. Ela tinha surtos de psicose e de depreciação moral </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6363355139219978599/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6363355139219978599&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6363355139219978599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6363355139219978599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/09/conversadeira-da-s.html' title='Conversadeira da Sé - I'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RuBC3cqnwOI/AAAAAAAAACU/A_EdUMBvNrY/s72-c/felipe.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1345797925850821810</id><published>2007-07-09T13:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T13:42:39.121-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ao contrário do que se imagina, Julho é um mês ocupadíssimo na vida adulta e, you know, infelizmente  (também ao contrário do que se imagina) agora nós somos todos adultos! Droga! Por isso, estaremos de férias até agosto.Você podia aproveitar para ler os posts que ainda não leu.See you soon!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1345797925850821810/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1345797925850821810&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1345797925850821810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1345797925850821810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/07/ao-contrrio-do-que-se-imagina-julho-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4174271414113387095</id><published>2007-07-08T13:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T13:43:39.387-03:00</updated><title type='text'>delayed epitaph</title><summary type='text'>(Wow!!! 07/07/07)  South Brisbane, Queensland, Australia ...as I can't call you as you... and only you can understand why...Dear she,Beyond your fantasy world there’s a real one, and “there”… is the place where I used to live, and the eventual “me” that eventually existed inside your fantasies wasn’t the real me living, no, not at all! No dear, I’m sure it was not a trace of the real me, and the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4174271414113387095/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4174271414113387095&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4174271414113387095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4174271414113387095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/07/delayed-epitaph.html' title='delayed epitaph'/><author><name>Marcos Freitas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08692594682131014392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/308/1863/320/kodak2a1%20046.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-788163756928703655</id><published>2007-07-03T16:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T17:05:14.502-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cumplicidade &amp; Curitiba - IV</title><summary type='text'>Cumplicidade &amp; Curitiba - IV"Through his eyes"By Frank ViñasMulherzinha. A wry laugh, a murmur, slurping her coffee cup, banging the computer keyboard, is my measuring devise to feel her daily state. The light by her window is perfect, is like Rembrandt’s, Girl Leaning On A Windowsill, But Candid emotions surrounds her pale face. Mumbling, extremely focus on her acephalous hero, she said:-- What </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/788163756928703655/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=788163756928703655&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/788163756928703655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/788163756928703655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/07/cumplicidade-curitiba-iv.html' title='Cumplicidade &amp; Curitiba - IV'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/RoqrA0rER8I/AAAAAAAAAn4/piLLqSK3aog/s72-c/mail-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3340154691380126864</id><published>2007-06-26T13:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T13:33:52.060-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cumplicidade &amp; Curitiba - III</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes Gameiro“O que você Sabe de mim pra dizer isso?” fiquei indignada demais, mas olhando S assim de cima, tudo o que eu queria era que ele Soubesse mesmo tudo de mim. Ai se ele soubesse metade de mim! “Eu Sei o que eu to vendo.” -  ele disse com aquele meio sorriso meio lindo me dando essa meia raiva que me tirou do Sério. “Você vê tudo errado. Você não vê coisa nenhuma.” que raiva, que </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3340154691380126864/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3340154691380126864&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3340154691380126864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3340154691380126864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/cumplicidade-curitiba-iii.html' title='Cumplicidade &amp; Curitiba - III'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RoE-FNruWDI/AAAAAAAAACM/VF6EMg8m3Lo/s72-c/kind+of+pain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4097228292424455401</id><published>2007-06-26T08:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T11:47:20.256-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cumplicidade e Curitiba - parte II</title><summary type='text'>Conto nº 04Idéia por Felipe Belão Iubel, Parte II por Alice Salles Com aquela cara de ranzinza que tenho nunca imaginei que ele viria falar comigo. Se bem que falar todo mundo pode, isso não quer dizer nada. S chegou bem perto e dava pra ver a ponta do nariz vermelha por causa do frio. O cabelo todo esvoaçante e a fumacinha que Saia pela Sua boca. Aliás, foi ali que reparei... Mas que boca! Eu </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4097228292424455401/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4097228292424455401&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4097228292424455401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4097228292424455401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/cumplicidade-e-curitiba-parte-ii.html' title='Cumplicidade e Curitiba - parte II'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/RoD5a-vteGI/AAAAAAAAAnI/6rJaiVkMl-I/s72-c/alice+cartoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7435505818000728590</id><published>2007-06-23T11:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T11:47:16.717-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cumplicidade e Curitiba</title><summary type='text'>por Felipe Belão IubelConto nº 04Idéia nº 1.012.345Parte1Curitiba é o tipo de cidade onde o clima é apenas um reflexo do comportamento das pessoas que a habitam. Pode ser frio e desagradável pela manhã; quente e seco durante o almoço; ou temperado e aconchegante durante a noite.De todos esses, o temperado e aconchegante é o tema dessa história. Porém, a secura e a frieza vão aparecer de tempos em</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7435505818000728590/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7435505818000728590&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7435505818000728590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7435505818000728590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/cumplicidade-e-curitiba.html' title='Cumplicidade e Curitiba'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MUpRt7dgYOI/Rn0xDy-G0_I/AAAAAAAAAA0/ZSiSjcMYTL8/s72-c/DSC00137.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4156846322128123585</id><published>2007-06-22T19:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T20:55:38.369-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Romeo &amp; Juliet</title><summary type='text'>Epitáfiopor Mercedes GameiroConto n.2Entregamos nossos corpos, por não precisar deles para eternizar o que sentimos.Entregamos nossas vidas para que sejamos livres.Entregamos nossas almas para amar para sempre.Entregamos um ao outro o que somos e o que fomos."Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace!"Carla e Jonas˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚˚Carta lacrada, encontrada na bolsa de CarlaParaGlorinha </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4156846322128123585/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4156846322128123585&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4156846322128123585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4156846322128123585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/romeo-juliet.html' title='Romeo &amp; Juliet'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RnxZmNruWCI/AAAAAAAAACE/TuaDMAIw5do/s72-c/Photo+169.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3469508865997050285</id><published>2007-06-20T15:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T16:00:30.694-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cobra</title><summary type='text'>EpitaphBy Frank ViñasNow, I feel as nothing matters. The constant strolls on the main deck are displeasing to my crew. They know. It’s nerve racking to them. They are aware of my state. I hear it louder and see it clearer than ever, magnified a thousand times over. I see, each officer staring at each other, from every angle.  After living for years and years together and navigating in this </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3469508865997050285/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3469508865997050285&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3469508865997050285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3469508865997050285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/cobra.html' title='Cobra'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/Rnl3JNruWBI/AAAAAAAAAB8/I5q2BAuc8mc/s72-c/frankvweb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8744938828187101565</id><published>2007-06-19T16:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T16:45:29.708-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Um pequeno Adeus</title><summary type='text'>Conto No. 2Por Flavia MelissaDesafio Caixa Preta IVEu sempre soube que este dia chegaria. Eu sempre soube, desde a primeira vez em que as crianças da escola me ridicularizaram por eu ser diferente, desde que as meninas rejeitavam meus convites para dançar porque eu era diferente. Algumas me tratavam bem, é verdade, mas eu sempre soube que era por pura piedade. Por pura misericórdia. E, porque não</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8744938828187101565/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8744938828187101565&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8744938828187101565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8744938828187101565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/um-pequeno-adeus.html' title='Um pequeno Adeus'/><author><name>Flavia Melissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06574723482919590272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/SCNGhapQWcI/AAAAAAAAAls/DfHp8x7r3C0/S220/back_2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/RngwaoK3wDI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/sDqkezG16CE/s72-c/Dsc00235.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1790181599926307274</id><published>2007-06-15T11:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T19:20:13.973-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Epitáfio Piegas</title><summary type='text'>por Felipe Belão Iubelconto n.2Onde quer que estejaDurante meus dois últimos dias nessa sua terra que é de ninguém, pensei em como dizer toda a verdade para você. Imaginei que uma carta diria tudo. Porém, agora, onde quer que eu esteja, sei que não é assim que os sentimentos funcionam.Naquele dia em que você terminou tantos anos em apenas uma ligação, eu chorei. Chorei e dei repetidos socos na </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1790181599926307274/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1790181599926307274&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1790181599926307274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1790181599926307274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/epitfio-piegas.html' title='Epitáfio Piegas'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RnWzXtruV_I/AAAAAAAAABs/ccFnMT-qmeg/s72-c/PB.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1020420743286240598</id><published>2007-06-14T18:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T20:35:12.942-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A verdade</title><summary type='text'>Conto nº 2por Carolina GarofaniDesafio Caixa Preta IVclique para ampliar.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1020420743286240598/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1020420743286240598&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1020420743286240598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1020420743286240598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/verdade.html' title='A verdade'/><author><name>C. Garofani</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CumXj5ky42g/SHTzPCesbWI/AAAAAAAADZA/6cDR3pZ-3d4/S220/concentrada.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CumXj5ky42g/RnG6O3OCEpI/AAAAAAAAAbg/oyVVjtu2hl0/s72-c/carolpinkgrips.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8418592944817262514</id><published>2007-06-14T18:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T18:15:57.678-03:00</updated><title type='text'>PostSecret - Epitáfio</title><summary type='text'>Um epitáfio ao contrário.PostSecret - 10/06/2007*achei que cabia bem aqui.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8418592944817262514/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8418592944817262514&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8418592944817262514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8418592944817262514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/postsecret-epitfio.html' title='PostSecret - Epitáfio'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RnGvotruV-I/AAAAAAAAABk/P-IbKD37cdk/s72-c/effects.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-2917511279523340699</id><published>2007-06-12T14:26:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T14:53:07.359-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ao infame portador</title><summary type='text'>Conto nº2 por Alice SallesDesafio Caixa Preta IVAo infame portador   São perdidas as causas pelas quais lutei. São perdidas todas e mais algumas que não me aceitam, que não me abraçam e não irei tentar mais. Peço desculpa por esse orgulhoso egoísmo que vive em mim e que morrerá comigo, ninguém vai ter que agüentar mais disso. Já fui tão amado, já fui tão querido, mas nunca da forma que deveria </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2917511279523340699/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=2917511279523340699&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2917511279523340699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2917511279523340699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/ao-infame-portador.html' title='Ao infame portador'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/Rm7bWevtd_I/AAAAAAAAAmQ/_IG7wZ26hio/s72-c/DSCN0015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1957161568526262358</id><published>2007-06-08T16:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T18:04:19.267-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Epitáfio</title><summary type='text'> Conto n.2por Felipe Belão Iubel* foto Alice "Wonderland Girl" SalesTerça-feira, Doce ChuvaAcordei deitado num gramado coberto com folhas amarelas. Amarelo daqueles de outono e folhas daquelas com cinco pontas. Acordei assustado, pois parecia que eu havia caído de um abismo. Penhasco. Desfiladeiro. Barranco. As palavras chegavam fáceis aos meus pensamentos, com vozes de outras pessoas. E, de </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1957161568526262358/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1957161568526262358&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1957161568526262358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1957161568526262358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/tera-feira-doce-chuva.html' title='Epitáfio'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MUpRt7dgYOI/Rmmvvi-G0-I/AAAAAAAAAAs/HWOsGs3c3HM/s72-c/PB.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3456227137387537621</id><published>2007-06-05T16:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T16:58:40.851-03:00</updated><title type='text'>EPITÁFIO</title><summary type='text'>Conto número 2por gravata (clique na imagem para ampliá-la) </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3456227137387537621/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3456227137387537621&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3456227137387537621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3456227137387537621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/epitfio_05.html' title='EPITÁFIO'/><author><name>Gravata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/SyV0FwAZHmI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_sSWx0S8Lk8/S220/nvvtr3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/RmXACBEwzdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/4eq72f8MwEw/s72-c/lapide.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1788327855673296740</id><published>2007-06-05T15:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T15:42:57.136-03:00</updated><title type='text'>EPITÁFIO</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes GameiroConto nº2Meus queridos,Juro que, se eu pudesse, entraria numa máquina de evaporar.Se tal máquina existisse, ela evaporaria pessoas, dores, sofrimentos e lembranças. Assim, eu poderia simplesmente desaparecer da face da Terra sem que ninguém sofresse por isso.Eu queria simplesmente não faltar - não ser nem mesmo como aquele vaso que fica no canto da sala desde “pra sempre”, e a</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1788327855673296740/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1788327855673296740&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1788327855673296740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1788327855673296740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/06/epitfio.html' title='EPITÁFIO'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RmWpK9ruV9I/AAAAAAAAABc/1updDrbDGFU/s72-c/Bon%C3%A9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1651631858007904961</id><published>2007-05-30T12:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T12:25:28.138-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu e eu</title><summary type='text'>Conto n˚1Por Fastolf BrambelDesafio Caixa Preta IIIBranco... tudo branco. Muita luz. Cheiro bom. Tudo branco... Tudo estranho. Branco.Não via nada, nada além de uma forte luz que me cegava. Sabe quando ligam a luz e você está dormindo? Então... só que branco. Tudo branco.Rápidamente surgiu um vulto que, agora devagar, vinha em minha direção.- Rafa? - ele disse.Quanto mais o vulto se apróximava </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1651631858007904961/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1651631858007904961&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1651631858007904961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1651631858007904961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/eu-e-eu.html' title='Eu e eu'/><author><name>Fastolf.b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05298523940301459290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1966/3787/400/lingua.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oObNG9qElwI/Rl2TBpi1e0I/AAAAAAAAACo/_VjxW0xNGC4/s72-c/fastolf3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4597077474335997653</id><published>2007-05-29T10:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T12:14:18.036-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Boneco Quebrado</title><summary type='text'>Por Marilia LopesConto nº1 - convidada especialDesafio Caixa Preta IIIO telefone toca, tento correr pra atender, mas minhas pernas são muito pequenas. Ahhh que saco, eu adoro atender telefone!!!Ihhh...acho que não é coisa boa, estão  gritando e chorando pela casa. Histéricos!!Que correria é essa? Minha mãe parece doida, meu pai anda de um lado pro outro sem saber o que fazer. ALGUÉM PODE ME DIZER</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4597077474335997653/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4597077474335997653&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4597077474335997653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4597077474335997653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/boneco-quebrado.html' title='Boneco Quebrado'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RlxCsfmCGFI/AAAAAAAAABU/sbciv6vTcb0/s72-c/marilia.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-9204029477136455668</id><published>2007-05-27T22:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T10:44:35.407-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O semi-morto, o caderno e o bebê da capa</title><summary type='text'> Conto no. 1Por Flavia MelissaDesafio Caixa Preta IIIEu fui a primeira coisa que ele viu quando abriu os olhos. Passados tantos anos, acho que ele esperava coisa melhor quando abriu os olhos e as pupilas me encararam pela primeira vez. Mas eu estava ali, ali do lado, dando sopa, de bandeja. Então ele abriu os olhos e me viu. E, é, foi isso aí.Eu já tinha ouvido muitos papos a respeito daquele </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/9204029477136455668/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=9204029477136455668&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/9204029477136455668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/9204029477136455668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/um-semi-morto-um-caderno-e-o-beb-da.html' title='O semi-morto, o caderno e o bebê da capa'/><author><name>Flavia Melissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06574723482919590272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/SCNGhapQWcI/AAAAAAAAAls/DfHp8x7r3C0/S220/back_2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/RlorUnySGFI/AAAAAAAAANA/zlHoAdBASDQ/s72-c/fla.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4464296529685392033</id><published>2007-05-25T16:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T10:45:21.953-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu ouvi direito?</title><summary type='text'>Conto nº 01por Alice SallesDesafio Caixa Preta III “Eu ouvi direito?”O relógio no meu celular marcava quinze para as quatro horas da tarde. Ele tinha pânico que esse momento chegasse, era quase um princípio para o caos em seu sistema. Sistema... Essa palavra não era usada há muito tempo naquela casa. Não havia sistema pra nada, nem para esquecer e nem para lembrar daquele dia que o nosso irmão </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4464296529685392033/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4464296529685392033&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4464296529685392033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4464296529685392033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/eu-ouvi-direito-conto-n-01-por-alice.html' title='Eu ouvi direito?'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/Rlc8-IEs8kI/AAAAAAAAAjw/hvWPoVXoMJw/s72-c/hair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4389219932635861946</id><published>2007-05-24T14:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T15:15:27.152-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Enquanto os anjos dormem</title><summary type='text'> Conto nº 01por Felipe Belão Iubel(com o objetivo de declarar meu amor e desejo de reconciliação com meus amigos e irmãos das letras e dos dedos quentes nos teclados do Brasil)Acordei confuso. Senti que meu irmão me segurava pela mão, mesmo morando sozinho. Pude ouvir sua voz ao longe e tive saudades. Saudades de um tempo que talvez tenha passado em um mundo que não se abre para memória ou </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4389219932635861946/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4389219932635861946&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4389219932635861946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4389219932635861946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/enquanto-os-anjos-dormem.html' title='Enquanto os anjos dormem'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MUpRt7dgYOI/RlXPqwvaoQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/59oZTO-x9VI/s72-c/Copy+of+Imagem040.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8148937112324753861</id><published>2007-05-23T09:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T10:51:22.182-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Luzinhas piscantes</title><summary type='text'>Por Carolina GarofaniDesafio Caixa Preta IIIConto Nº1O irmãozinho senta na cadeira ao lado da cama do irmãozão. O grande, cansado do hospital, olha para fora da janela o dia inteiro, aguardando o dia em que vai ter alta. Ele quer ir atrás das antigas namoradas, quer trabalhar, quer ver o mundo, quer ir pra praia.O pequeno não sabe bem o que fazer. Esse tiozão aí, meio barrigudo já, é seu irmão, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8148937112324753861/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8148937112324753861&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8148937112324753861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8148937112324753861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/luzinhas-piscantes.html' title='Luzinhas piscantes'/><author><name>C. Garofani</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CumXj5ky42g/SHTzPCesbWI/AAAAAAAADZA/6cDR3pZ-3d4/S220/concentrada.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8716331947325493411</id><published>2007-05-22T13:53:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T21:21:59.108-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O IRMÃO DEITADO</title><summary type='text'>por Gravataí Merengueargumento sugerido por Carolina GarofaniConto nº1Está em pé, observando o irmão deitado. Faz frio. O dia está claro. É estranho esse frio mesmo com o sol lá fora. É estranho o irmão deitado depois de tantos anos. Tudo é estranho.Ele tenta chorar, mas nem isso consegue. O que fazer com o irmão que permanece inerte naquela cama? O que fazer agora? Ele não sabe como responder. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8716331947325493411/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8716331947325493411&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8716331947325493411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8716331947325493411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-irmo-deitado.html' title='O IRMÃO DEITADO'/><author><name>Gravata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/SyV0FwAZHmI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_sSWx0S8Lk8/S220/nvvtr3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6064209253266269555</id><published>2007-05-21T12:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T21:20:49.914-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mãe?</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes Gameiro Desafio Caixa Preta IIIArgumento sugerido por Carolina GarofaniConto nº1"Try to forget this, try to erase this, from the black board. Essa música não sai da minha cabeça. Que barulho chato. Esse rádio-relógio está apitando e vai me enlouquecer. Deixa eu dormir vai? Eu não tenho trabalho hoje. Que dia é hoje? Que fome…um big mac, um nuggets de 12 e uma coca grande por favor. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6064209253266269555/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6064209253266269555&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6064209253266269555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6064209253266269555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/me.html' title='Mãe?'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RlG6f_mCGEI/AAAAAAAAABM/zOr9UaiQV0A/s72-c/Photo+169.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6745723694247331411</id><published>2007-05-14T17:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:12:49.033-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone XIII</title><summary type='text'> - por Carolina Garofani - Desafio Caixa Preta II– Greigúse.– Não. Greeaaaaaaaaííííí Gúúúúúúaaaaseeeeah.– Greigúsea.– Jan, faz uma forcinha.– Forcinha quem faz é cu.Jan-Luc tira a tampa da garrafa, cheira o conteúdo, franze a testa e dá uma golada de remexer o gogó.– Arrrrrre. Arde mas é bom.– Bom? O Walter tem razão, você é um toscão.– Toscão não, eu sou um bêbado de bigode.– Mesma coisa. Me dá </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6745723694247331411/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6745723694247331411&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6745723694247331411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6745723694247331411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-xiii.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone XIII'/><author><name>C. Garofani</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CumXj5ky42g/SHTzPCesbWI/AAAAAAAADZA/6cDR3pZ-3d4/S220/concentrada.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CumXj5ky42g/RkjZenKhlnI/AAAAAAAAAYg/NqNiJpnKpjE/s72-c/Photo+7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7818942353368892308</id><published>2007-05-12T00:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-12T00:25:43.240-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, O Relógio e o Meio Bigode</title><summary type='text'>Jan-Luc Dutrés, fotografado pelo intrépido Fastol Brambel.(Alice Salles diz:         Agora o Jan parece o Clive Owen pra mim!)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7818942353368892308/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7818942353368892308&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7818942353368892308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7818942353368892308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-meio-bigode.html' title='O Copo, O Relógio e o Meio Bigode'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RkUy5pAk_vI/AAAAAAAAABE/WKJBOFGQ4B0/s72-c/jan-lucpbpq.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6526669481125495412</id><published>2007-05-11T16:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T16:39:13.580-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone XII</title><summary type='text'>Estão os três sentados na cama do hotelzinho barato de beira de estrada, atônitos com o noticiário da TV que bombardeava péssimas novidades:"...as autoridades pretendem processar o fabricante dos coletes, pois os disparos não foram feitos por uma arma muito poderosa, segundo informa a perícia... o policial assassinado se chamava Mauricio Arquimedes... não há testemunhas..."Mr. W- Apenas </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6526669481125495412/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6526669481125495412&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6526669481125495412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6526669481125495412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone XII'/><author><name>Gravata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/SyV0FwAZHmI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_sSWx0S8Lk8/S220/nvvtr3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4812929436393653639</id><published>2007-05-11T15:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T16:19:12.867-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone XI</title><summary type='text'>Por Fastolf Brambel - Desafio Caixa Preta IIDepois de toda essa confusão e de já não saber mais o que pensar, e muito menos o que sentir, sentei para uma breve reflexão.Minha cabeça girava. Girava feito um roda-roda em um playgroud de crianças. Girava como esses que rodam com crianças felizes que se jogam para o prazer, nada muito diferente de mim... Talvez girasse pela mistura, talvez apenas por</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4812929436393653639/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4812929436393653639&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4812929436393653639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4812929436393653639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-xi.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone XI'/><author><name>Fastolf.b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05298523940301459290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1966/3787/400/lingua.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oObNG9qElwI/RkS1iYK7nzI/AAAAAAAAACg/Wx0W4G6tXIg/s72-c/fastolf1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4807012591235328432</id><published>2007-05-10T13:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T14:06:33.590-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone X</title><summary type='text'>Por Rodrigo Gameiro - Desafio Caixa Preta IISim, era o gordo asqueroso que eu tinha visto da outra vez. Eu, Ele e Ela no mesmo cômodo. Algum silêncio. Ninguém fala. Pareceram longas horas de vazio sonoro quando o gordo interfere.“Desculpe dona, a porta estava aberta, eu estou procurando a Sra. Janete. É aqui que ela mora?”“Não,  senhor deve estar enganado, aqui não tem ninguém com este nome”“Mil </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4807012591235328432/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4807012591235328432&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4807012591235328432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4807012591235328432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-x.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone X'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RkNQRJAk_uI/AAAAAAAAAA8/SQh7yaWIOdo/s72-c/blogwclub.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8425630742110255698</id><published>2007-05-08T18:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T14:06:02.518-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone IX</title><summary type='text'>Por Fastolf Brambel - Desafio Caixa Preta IIParei e ouvi. Encostada na porta sentia minha respiração tremer suas estruturas de cima a baixo.Jan, Jan... Difícil acreditar como alguém consegue estar tão bem representado em meus sentimentos, exatamente em cima da linha que divide o amor e o ódio. Dois sentimentos tão intensos quanto semelhantes. Tão gostosos quanto desprezíveis. Ambos, os dois, ao </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8425630742110255698/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8425630742110255698&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8425630742110255698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8425630742110255698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-ix.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone IX'/><author><name>Fastolf.b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05298523940301459290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1966/3787/400/lingua.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oObNG9qElwI/RkDviYK7nyI/AAAAAAAAACY/GvKk4mDw-hU/s72-c/fastolf2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7375477596460429080</id><published>2007-05-07T17:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T14:04:29.619-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O copo, o relógio e o telefone VIII</title><summary type='text'>Por Flavia Melissa - Desafio Caixa Preta II Os dias se passavam mas nada daquilo passava, tudo o que invadia minha lembrança era a lembrança dela, Dana, Dana, como eu queria que ela nunca tivesse atendido ao celular na primeira vez em que liguei, pelo menos o meu mundo teria aquele mesmo significado que teve um dia, ou melhor, nenhum significado. Sim, porque naquela época eu não via sentido </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7375477596460429080/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7375477596460429080&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7375477596460429080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7375477596460429080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-viii.html' title='O copo, o relógio e o telefone VIII'/><author><name>Flavia Melissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06574723482919590272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/SCNGhapQWcI/AAAAAAAAAls/DfHp8x7r3C0/S220/back_2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/Rj-HlTi_9II/AAAAAAAAAJ4/aiMOowSIhhc/s72-c/flasitio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1385872641848590795</id><published>2007-05-02T06:04:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T14:05:22.501-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, O Relógio e o Telefone VII</title><summary type='text'>por Alice Salles - Desafio Caixa Preta II . . Pronto. Eram assim que os dias se passavam pra mim enquanto a silhueta de Dana não se fazia presente na parede do quarto... quarto? Que quarto, Jan-Luc? Esse nome me soava estranho. Levantei a cabeça, era a força que tinha guardada e a usei para levantar a cabeça e o quarto girava ao som de um barulho qualquer daquele quarto qualquer onde haviam me </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1385872641848590795/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1385872641848590795&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1385872641848590795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1385872641848590795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-vii.html' title='O Copo, O Relógio e o Telefone VII'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/Rjh8SuovjvI/AAAAAAAAAhE/rYlY9-QG1rY/s72-c/DSCN2601.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3721762720833610835</id><published>2007-04-30T17:20:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:09:53.417-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone VI</title><summary type='text'> Por Carolina Garofani - Desafio Caixa Preta– Alô!!! Caceta, alô. Hein.Atendo a merda do telefone, e do outro lado a Dana grita na minha orelha que eu sou um canalha safado e que ela não quer me ver mais, e quer saber onde estou. Eu não sei onde estou, eu sei que tem gente gemendo do outro lado da parede, e uma mulher gritando EU SOU UMA CADELA! seguido de um barulho de tapa. Eu digo que acho que</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3721762720833610835/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3721762720833610835&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3721762720833610835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3721762720833610835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-vi.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone VI'/><author><name>C. Garofani</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CumXj5ky42g/SHTzPCesbWI/AAAAAAAADZA/6cDR3pZ-3d4/S220/concentrada.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CumXj5ky42g/RjZQCHKhkcI/AAAAAAAAAQg/McUbhBhqNFA/s72-c/Photo+9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6878775178293992081</id><published>2007-04-26T22:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T23:16:51.591-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone V</title><summary type='text'> por Gravata - Desafio Caixa Preta IIVou até o banheiro, deixo os dois conversando, Dana e o negão. Mister sei-lá-o-quê. Vou dar um tiro rápido. Um ou dois. Preciso despachar logo esse pó. Então, vou matar logo a peteca inteira.Jogo rápido, eles não sacam. Tá pensando que eu sou lóki?* * *E eu continuo, isso e aquilo. Me dê um beijo, meu amor, eles estão nos esperando. Quem é você? Sou tímido e </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6878775178293992081/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6878775178293992081&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6878775178293992081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6878775178293992081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-v.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone V'/><author><name>Gravata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/SyV0FwAZHmI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_sSWx0S8Lk8/S220/nvvtr3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8226842685096617159</id><published>2007-04-26T20:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T20:30:11.482-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone IV</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes Gameiro - Desafio Caixa Preta IIDroga… Preciso comprar um lustre pra esse quarto. Que horror! Essa lâmpada ta pendurada aí desde que eu me mudei. Também...ninguém entra aqui mesmo... a não ser essa coisa. Olhaaa! Ainda dá pra ler o preço da lâmpada. A etiqueta só queimou um pouquinho. Quanto será que dura uma lâmpada? Tem umas coisas que eu nunca sei. Quanto dura um bujão de gás de </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8226842685096617159/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8226842685096617159&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8226842685096617159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8226842685096617159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-iv.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone IV'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RjEyFZAk_tI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ahb3aLzXBVY/s72-c/Mgpod2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7273317140025009725</id><published>2007-04-26T17:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T17:48:17.119-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O copo, o relógio e o telefone III</title><summary type='text'>por Felipe Belão Iubel - desafio Caixa Preta IIProcurei o carregador por algum tempo. Isso só me fez perder mais 10 minutos. 11:40. Larguei o aparelho em cima do sofá e corri para o carro. Quando eu parei de correr e sentei em frente ao volante, lembrei com bastante ênfase na bebedeira do dia anterior. Tsunami de vômito no banco do passageiro. Passei a manga da blusa no bigode enquanto gritava </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7273317140025009725/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7273317140025009725&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7273317140025009725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7273317140025009725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-parte-iii.html' title='O copo, o relógio e o telefone III'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MUpRt7dgYOI/RjEIpsxZ_fI/AAAAAAAAAAU/IM4B_kVCQKg/s72-c/Copy+of+Imagem045.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3434535286092919883</id><published>2007-04-24T18:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T21:44:11.721-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone I</title><summary type='text'>Por Fastolf Brambel - Desafio Caixa Preta IIConto que observava ansioso. Suava quente em dia frio.Eram ambos firmes e decididos. O pequeno já estava quase lá há tempos enquanto o grande parecia economizar o seu. Mesmo com a falta de pressa os dois chegaram ao mesmo tempo, sem falhas, aos seus respectivos lugares. Como tinha de ser.O menor já esboçava seu passo até a casa nove, sem pensar em outra</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3434535286092919883/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3434535286092919883&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3434535286092919883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3434535286092919883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/o-copo-o-relgio-e-o-telefone-captulo.html' title='O Copo, o Relógio e o Telefone I'/><author><name>Fastolf.b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05298523940301459290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1966/3787/400/lingua.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oObNG9qElwI/Ri58YM4ILMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/otJLX7H-I-0/s72-c/fastolf1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-5554129738923004300</id><published>2007-04-23T19:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T21:43:11.732-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren&amp;Mariana FINAL</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes Gameiro - Desafio Caixa PretaRestaurante - 14:30Daren está todo perfumado, arrumado como se fosse tirar foto para o passaporte…nervoso, esperando Mariana que, como sempre, está atrasada. Ele tem muita coisa para dizer e mal pode esperar até que ela sente e se acomode à sua frente. Olha sem parar para o celular como se ele fosse dizer onde ela está. Sobre a mesa, uma garrafa de vinho </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/5554129738923004300/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=5554129738923004300&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/5554129738923004300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/5554129738923004300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-final.html' title='Daren&amp;Mariana FINAL'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/Ri02RzqEUQI/AAAAAAAAAAs/mGF_YJfdLGU/s72-c/Mgpod2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4662089862180165008</id><published>2007-04-19T18:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T18:55:01.305-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XXII</title><summary type='text'> por Gravata (Desafio Caixa Preta)TEMPO ATUAL, SÃO PAULOCASA DE PEDROPedro (ao telefone)- Tudo certo por aí?Mr. W- Sim. Ele está a caminho.Pedro- Ótimo. Precisamos resolver isso logo.Mr. W- Já está resolvido. Estou aqui no barco, ele vem para cá.Pedro- Que bom... Ah! Daren e Mariana estão juntos...Mr. W- Eu sei. Eu mesmo vi. Foi engraçado, até... Ótimo, né?Pedro- Ótimo, ótimo. Deu tudo certo.Mr. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4662089862180165008/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4662089862180165008&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4662089862180165008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4662089862180165008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-xxii.html' title='Daren e Mariana XXII'/><author><name>Gravata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/SyV0FwAZHmI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_sSWx0S8Lk8/S220/nvvtr3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/RiARRSbQPzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zUuSkIfPk80/s72-c/webcam7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7692812534965321065</id><published>2007-04-19T15:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T21:42:27.243-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XXI</title><summary type='text'>Por Carolina Garofani - Desafio Caixa PretaA Louca-mãe-muito-louca abre os olhos lentamente. Ela está esparramada no sofá, com as pernas no chão, a garrafa de vinho pingando suas derradeiras gotas no carpê marfim, e dentro da cabeça tem uma banda militar tocando sem piedade. Onde eu estou? Ela olha em volta, ainda com os olhos entreabertos, a luz da janela ofuscando tudo, e ai minhas costas...Ela</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7692812534965321065/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7692812534965321065&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7692812534965321065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7692812534965321065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-xxi.html' title='Daren e Mariana XXI'/><author><name>C. Garofani</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CumXj5ky42g/SHTzPCesbWI/AAAAAAAADZA/6cDR3pZ-3d4/S220/concentrada.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CumXj5ky42g/Rie1MrdOZmI/AAAAAAAAAM0/NNhqb3VlUtg/s72-c/newpic2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4671473283833431174</id><published>2007-04-18T15:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T21:41:34.548-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana  XX</title><summary type='text'>Por Felipe Belão Iubel – Desafio Caixa PretaAinda no apartamento.Após sete segundos de silêncio e de rostos pálidos, Mariana levanta e empurra sua mãe para fora do quarto e tranca a porta com duas voltas na chave. A mulher reclama, grita, estapeia a porta e se descontrola completamente. Age como se, na verdade, fosse Daren o culpado por ela estar para fora.Louca-Mãe-Louca-da-VidaMe deixa entrar, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4671473283833431174/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4671473283833431174&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4671473283833431174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4671473283833431174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-xx.html' title='Daren e Mariana  XX'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MUpRt7dgYOI/RiZnHpxL-AI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HeUb_G6lIuM/s72-c/Copy+of+Imagem045.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7523296138085126787</id><published>2007-04-17T23:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T10:56:18.395-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XIX</title><summary type='text'>Por Flavia Melissa - Desafio Caixa PretaCasa de Mariana. Onze e vinte de uma manha de sábado, o prédio está tranquilo e silencioso.Daren sobe os degraus sentindo o coração bater mais rápido, enfim ia tê-la para si, enfim ia poder dizer aquilo com que vinha sonhando há meses, desde que aquela loira que sonseguia ser louca e angelical ao mesmo tempo havia saído diretamente do mundo virtual para o </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7523296138085126787/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7523296138085126787&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7523296138085126787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7523296138085126787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-xix.html' title='Daren e Mariana XIX'/><author><name>Flavia Melissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06574723482919590272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/SCNGhapQWcI/AAAAAAAAAls/DfHp8x7r3C0/S220/back_2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/RiV_CzrY0ZI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/sfcs4RslgZY/s72-c/flavia_cobras_cutout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3900152614713033580</id><published>2007-04-17T14:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T21:40:54.716-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren&amp;Mariana  XVIII</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes Gameiro - Desafio Caixa PretaINTERLÚDIO...enquanto isso, na casa de Mariana...As torradas pulam na torradeira. Uma grande colheirada de cream cheese é espalhada em uma delas. Café quente cai numa caneca exagerada. Com olheiras e desgrenhada, Mariana come completamente sonada, enquanto fala no telefone. A tela se divide e vemos a mãe de Mariana do outro lado da linha. Cinquenta e </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3900152614713033580/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3900152614713033580&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3900152614713033580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3900152614713033580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-xviii.html' title='Daren&amp;Mariana  XVIII'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RiUMpJ32YuI/AAAAAAAAAAk/qgZZQXCaMxA/s72-c/Mgpod2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3800121940317217430</id><published>2007-04-17T11:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T11:00:00.179-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XVII</title><summary type='text'>Por Alice Salles - desafio caixa preta(wanna some redemption, kids?) . ....Gustavo está em sua casa comprada com dinheiro sujo de Dona Dina... Ele anda de lá para cá nos deixando tontos! Ele está tenso, preocupado com tudo e principalmente preocupado por ter ido longe demais nessa história, afinal ele conhece Daren toda a sua vida, eram amigos de infância e tinham até perdido a virgindade no </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3800121940317217430/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3800121940317217430&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3800121940317217430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3800121940317217430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-xvii.html' title='Daren e Mariana XVII'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/RiTfBKpTocI/AAAAAAAAAeM/idlQek4NMnI/s72-c/Alice+PB.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-2561095810614256339</id><published>2007-04-13T20:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T21:44:54.649-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XVI</title><summary type='text'> por Gravata (Desafio Caixa Preta)TEMPO PRESENTEVELÓRIOPedro e Mariana estão abraçados, ambos chorando. Dina também chora, ao lado dos dois, mas com bem mais discrição. Há muitos outros presentes, mas ninguém de relevância para esta história.Pedro- Ele se foi... Ainda não acredito...Mariana- Nem eu... Que coisa mais louca tudo isso...EM RETROSPECTORESTAURANTEDaren (ligando para Mariana)- Max, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2561095810614256339/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=2561095810614256339&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2561095810614256339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2561095810614256339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/captulo-xv.html' title='Daren e Mariana XVI'/><author><name>Gravata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/SyV0FwAZHmI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_sSWx0S8Lk8/S220/nvvtr3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rPPmVtCidqY/RiARRSbQPzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zUuSkIfPk80/s72-c/webcam7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-2103286390850540298</id><published>2007-04-13T14:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T22:25:09.630-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XV</title><summary type='text'>Por Flavia Melissa - Desafio Caixa PretaMariana entra no carro sentindo o nó no estômago se apertar ainda mais. Enquanto dirige, pensamentos invadem sua cabeça e a deixam meio tonta, o coração dispara, a boca seca. Resolve parar num posto de gasolina e comprar xiclete e cigarros.&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;FRENTISTACompleta?MARIANAPor favor.No momento em que está entrando no posto, lá está ele: </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2103286390850540298/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=2103286390850540298&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2103286390850540298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2103286390850540298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-xv.html' title='Daren e Mariana XV'/><author><name>Flavia Melissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06574723482919590272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/SCNGhapQWcI/AAAAAAAAAls/DfHp8x7r3C0/S220/back_2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/Rh-387vyp-I/AAAAAAAAAI4/N9HU7D6oHT8/s72-c/flasitio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4218364672136041841</id><published>2007-04-13T08:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T20:24:21.368-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XIV</title><summary type='text'>Por Alice Salles - desafio caixa preta.(já deixo avisado que é minha culpa a história ter tomado um rumo tão romântico e assumo as consequências!)...Hey Ho, Let's go!É uma bela manhã de domingo e Daren ainda não conseguiu pregar os olhos. Tantas coisas passam pela sua cabeça, tantas idéias, tantos acontecimentos...  ele está sentado sobre a sua cadeira regulável com os pés sobre a mesa ao lado do</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4218364672136041841/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4218364672136041841&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4218364672136041841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4218364672136041841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-xiv.html' title='Daren e Mariana XIV'/><author><name>Alice Salles P. Affonso</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389579882291901526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/TFsvm5DwCpI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2HA1UJL5h3s/S220/P1016929.ORF.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GCK4hlPqVkE/Rh9xzqpToZI/AAAAAAAAAd0/MdVfFAy85QI/s72-c/Alice+PB.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7636008747927609993</id><published>2007-04-12T19:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T20:27:11.454-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XIII</title><summary type='text'>Por Felipe Belão Iubel - Desafio Caixa Preta...(só para deixar claro uma coisa: esse rumo violento que a história tomou não é minha culpa)...Nas escadas do apartamento de Mariana, Ademir olha para a arma em sua mão. O contato com o metal gelado o faz pensar sobre as conseqüências de puxar o gatilho. Ele pára um segundo e segura no corrimão.AdemirNão é hora de pensar muito no que fazer. Essa fase </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7636008747927609993/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7636008747927609993&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7636008747927609993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7636008747927609993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/parte-xiii-daren-e-mariana.html' title='Daren e Mariana XIII'/><author><name>Felipe "Tito" Belão</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05963628657826029365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RiK0ap32YtI/AAAAAAAAAAc/LCU1A5HMux4/s72-c/iubel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7445065352015019555</id><published>2007-04-12T13:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T16:03:45.839-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana XII</title><summary type='text'>Por Carolina GarofaniAPARTAMENTO DE MARIANA. DIA.BZZZZZZZZZZT.BZZZZZZZZZZT.BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.Mariana entreabre os olhos, sacode levemente a cabeça e olha ao seu redor.BZZZZZZZZZZZT.Ao seu lado, Mr. W. Dorme profundamente, as costas musculosas subindo e descendo com a respiração. Ela franze a testa ao olhar para ele, e olha em direção à porta.BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.Ela levanta</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7445065352015019555/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7445065352015019555&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7445065352015019555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7445065352015019555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-xii.html' title='Daren e Mariana XII'/><author><name>C. Garofani</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CumXj5ky42g/SHTzPCesbWI/AAAAAAAADZA/6cDR3pZ-3d4/S220/concentrada.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CumXj5ky42g/Rh53MALSYXI/AAAAAAAAAL8/jtlG1gupxzU/s72-c/outono.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6275813010405188225</id><published>2007-04-10T23:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T23:11:07.610-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana  XI</title><summary type='text'>Por Fernando Gravata - desafio caixa pretaDIA SEGUINTE, NA CASA DE MARIANA:(toca o telefone)Mariana- Alô... (com voz de sono)Mulher do Hospital- Senhora Mariana?Mariana- Sim... Quem é?Mulher do Hospital- É do Hospital-Escola Nossa Senhora das Guirlandas Esmeralda.Mariana- Vocês querem uma doação?Mulher do Hospital- Não, não. É que o senhor Daren Ross acordou.Mariana- Ah, muito obrigado por dar </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6275813010405188225/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6275813010405188225&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6275813010405188225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6275813010405188225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-xi.html' title='Daren e Mariana  XI'/><author><name>Mercedes Gameiro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16416668573655000919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_tWERpwC0j5I/SCUblR23x5I/AAAAAAAAAEE/wysoPj39s9o/S220/profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWERpwC0j5I/RhxCs9CKfLI/AAAAAAAAABo/7OgfeMBQfBU/s72-c/gravata.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8878270798585781065</id><published>2007-04-10T16:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T17:19:27.438-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana  X</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes Gameiro - Desafio Caixa PretaSão duas horas da manhã e Mariana ainda está sentada no corredor do hospital, esperando que Daren esteja fora de perigo. As horas demoram para passar e não deixam que as lágrimas finalmente sequem. Uma senhora caminha de ponta a ponta do corredor, repetidamente, sempre olhando para Mariana esboçando um semi-sorriso de solidariedade. A mulher vai e vem, e </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8878270798585781065/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8878270798585781065&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8878270798585781065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8878270798585781065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-x.html' title='Daren e Mariana  X'/><author><name>Mercedes Gameiro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16416668573655000919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_tWERpwC0j5I/SCUblR23x5I/AAAAAAAAAEE/wysoPj39s9o/S220/profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWERpwC0j5I/RhvtlNCKfKI/AAAAAAAAABg/kFotNDYiXak/s72-c/Medusa+pb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-2099733612754185308</id><published>2007-04-10T13:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T17:09:55.851-03:00</updated><title type='text'>DAREN E MARIANA IX</title><summary type='text'>     Por Marcos Freitas - Desafio Caixa PretaNota: talvez com uma pequena quebradinha tarantinística na linha do tempo. Mas vou tentar resolver de uma forma mais linear (Mariana não podia ter olhado pro telefone antes da hora certa! Humpf)  Situação geral: Casa da Dina: Daren, ainda na varanda, fica completamente introspectivo e, sem nem olhar pra Gostosa, vira a taça de vinho, dá meia volta e </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2099733612754185308/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=2099733612754185308&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2099733612754185308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2099733612754185308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-ix-nota-talvez.html' title='DAREN E MARIANA IX'/><author><name>Marcos Freitas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08692594682131014392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/308/1863/320/kodak2a1%20046.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/Rhvu_Z32YsI/AAAAAAAAAAU/H36yIyk7GeI/s72-c/marquito.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-3725567242309414657</id><published>2007-04-09T23:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T00:55:39.581-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana VIII</title><summary type='text'> Por Flavia Melissa - Desafio Caixa PretaEstão todos sentados na sala de Dina, riso amarelo e silêncio desconfortável. Mariana se incomoda com a presença de Desespero Praiano, tenta olhar para outra direção, mas não consegue desviar os olhos da gostosa sentada ao lado de Daren.Mariana divide um sofá com Dina, que se levantou e foi até o bar buscar bebidas. Pedro e Ademir estão sentados em outro </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/3725567242309414657/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=3725567242309414657&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3725567242309414657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/3725567242309414657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-mariana-parte-viii.html' title='Daren e Mariana VIII'/><author><name>Flavia Melissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06574723482919590272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/SCNGhapQWcI/AAAAAAAAAls/DfHp8x7r3C0/S220/back_2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqx6U3WegVU/Rhr-pLvyp7I/AAAAAAAAAIg/-jfCO4vcfb0/s72-c/DSCN3652.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-7067163303010734348</id><published>2007-04-09T21:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T23:28:38.397-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana VII</title><summary type='text'>Por Felipe Iubel - Desafio Caixa PretaDina abre a porta e encontra Ademir com cara de tédio। Ela tenta disfarçar a surpresa, mas seu jeito de perua não permite grandes encenações.DINAOi, querido! Que é que você tá fazendo aqui?!ADEMIRMeu Deus, Dina! A hospitalidade da sua casa já foi melhor, ein!DINAAi, menina! Desculpa! Deve ser a idade que finalmente está começando a se aproximar de mim com </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/7067163303010734348/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=7067163303010734348&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7067163303010734348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/7067163303010734348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/por-felipe-iubel-desafio-caixa-preta.html' title='Daren e Mariana VII'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-4885617409842269833</id><published>2007-04-09T21:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T23:38:22.491-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana VI</title><summary type='text'>         Por Alice Salles - Desafio Caixa PretaMariana desliga o telefone e logo percebe que foi uma completa louca। Fica desesperada porque já marcou o "encontro" com Daren logo depois de um super esporro que no fundo ela sabia que o cara não merecia। Ela fica parada por alguns instantes decidindo ainda o que irá fazer quando o seu celular toca. A música Hey dos Red Hot Chili Peppers enche a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/4885617409842269833/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=4885617409842269833&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4885617409842269833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/4885617409842269833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-vi.html' title='Daren e Mariana VI'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-2332648765186061495</id><published>2007-04-09T21:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T23:32:15.586-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana V</title><summary type='text'>Por Fernando Gravata - Desafio Caixa Preta(AINDA NA NOITE DA FESTA)Pequeno Prólogo, na Casa do PedroPedro dorme feito um querubim; mas um querubim extremamente bêbadoAdemir(saindo do  banheiro da suíte)- Que vergonha, hein?Pedro(não mais querubim, mas ainda embriagadíssimo)- Hmhn?!?Ademir- Esse povo todo vindo te carregar! E quem era o Abominável Homem das Neves de Black Tie?Pedro- Dê, pelo amor </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/2332648765186061495/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=2332648765186061495&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2332648765186061495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/2332648765186061495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-v.html' title='Daren e Mariana V'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-8041224713727647239</id><published>2007-04-09T21:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:22:45.903-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana IV</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes Gameiro               Mariana e Pedro andam até o bar, mas Mariana não consegue               tirar os olhos de Daren.                                   PEDRO                         Olha pra frente, mulher?                                   MARIANA                         Por que que eu to chocada?                                   PEDRO                         Hm...vamos ter </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/8041224713727647239/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=8041224713727647239&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8041224713727647239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/8041224713727647239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/relembrando-o-captulo-anterior-descendo.html' title='Daren e Mariana IV'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-1210715292694184946</id><published>2007-04-09T21:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:21:57.209-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana III</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes GameiroNOITE - MANSÃO DE DINA             A festa acontece em vários ambientes da mansão             extraordinariamente exagerada de Dina Reis. Quinhentos             convidados andam de um lado para o outro, dançam, bebem e             conversam. Mariana - linda num vestido incrível - mexe num             arranjo de rosas brancas e é interrompida por um abraço.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/1210715292694184946/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=1210715292694184946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1210715292694184946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/1210715292694184946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-iii.html' title='Daren e Mariana III'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6674026385708205455</id><published>2007-04-09T20:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:21:22.406-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana II</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes GameiroDIA - COZINHA              O café está quase pronto na cafeteira, as torradas pulam               quase queimadas, uma colherada de cream cheese exagerada é              jogada e espalhada numa torrada quase preta. Café na              caneca, água no vaso com a flor na janela, a cortina abre,              o sol entra. Mariana fala ao telefone enquanto come, arruma</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6674026385708205455/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6674026385708205455&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6674026385708205455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6674026385708205455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/dia-cozinha-o-caf-est-quase-pronto-na.html' title='Daren e Mariana II'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8867619282942797893.post-6872636187347037482</id><published>2007-04-09T20:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:20:45.661-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Daren e Mariana  I</title><summary type='text'>Por Mercedes GameiroEXT. DIASão tres horas da tarde em São Paulo num dia de sol como outro qualquer em 2007, com aquela umidade que mostra que a chuva vem vindo, hoje ou amanhã, mas ela não há de falhar.Na porta do Hotel onde Daren está hospedado, a equipe inteira se prepara para sair depois de uma reunião para definir o dia de amanhã. Hoje, folga merecida para todos. Foram dez dias de trabalho </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/feeds/6872636187347037482/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8867619282942797893&amp;postID=6872636187347037482&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6872636187347037482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8867619282942797893/posts/default/6872636187347037482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mgwritersclub.blogspot.com/2007/04/daren-e-mariana-parte-i_7199.html' title='Daren e Mariana  I'/><author><name>Mg Writers Club</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07448583579696930856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_F9an-WRzqvY/RhqyvTO3ccI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tmd86hI4PIA/s320/lapis.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
