Eu quero matar a saudade que quer me matar.
I want to kill this feeling of loss that wants to kill me.

Early one morning, I wake with a start. It seems that I’ve stirred to the sound of someone—a woman—walking past the house, singing. The sound still echoes in my consciousness, though I’m not sure whether I’ve dreamt the singing or not. It seems that, perhaps… yes! It’s happened once before, in the early hours—the death watch, as they call them.