Selected Cronicas

THE IMMORTAL MAN

Forgive me if I seem always to be writing about taxi-drivers. One of these days, I shall end up marrying a taxi-driver to avoid listening to any more of their tall stories. The conversation went like this:

— I’m going to sell up and emigrate to the United States.

I said nothing.

— There’s too much red-tape here in Brazil.

I continued to say nothing.

— Well, that’s not exactly true. I’m emigrating because I want them to freeze me.

— What?

— When people die in the States, they freeze the corpse and then defrost it later. And I’m scared of dying. Aren’t you?

The answer was no. I felt much more scared of him.

— And what happens when they defrost you?

— I’ll come back to life.

— But surely only to die again?

— Then they’ll freeze me again.

— So, you’ll never die?

— That’s right.