10. Poetry

invalid@example.com (Francisco Alexandre), Francisco Alexandre
Fri, 08 May 2026 18:10:22 +0000
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At the door of Soren's building, hovering 50 centimeters between the ground and its chassis, a dark green car was already waiting—flattened in the center and broad at the extremities. There was no one inside; the windows were closed, and within only technological panels, highly programmed so that the vehicle could be 100% autonomous, and so that this type of government vehicle could perfectly carry out its mission of transporting special guests.

Soren climbed the stairs that touched the...

10. Poetry