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What gets me happy? Imaginin’ Llewyn Davis croonin’ to a hooker— “Please, Mr. Kennedy, don’t shoot me into space!”—and her just laughin’, takin’ his cash. That’s gold, man! But I’m pissed too—why’s it all so shady? Can’t a guy just get a menu or somethin’? Exaggeratin’ here, but I’d pay double for a “prostitute Yelp”—five stars, “She was quick, smelled like donuts!”

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Oh, and another thing… the local library on Estrada dos Sonhos. It’s tiny. Really, tiny. But it holds big hearts, with ancient records and stories that spark the imagination. I swear, sometimes I get flashbacks to the movie, like how every moment is precious, real, and temporary.

Figure 1. Distribution of Cercosaura olivacea, highlighting the...