Here’s a sample of “Nightmare, Inc.”, it’s the beginning of the first scene.

I hope you like it.

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A high-quality nightmare must consist of three parts.

Loss usually comes first. I surprised two of our friends talking about me in the ladies’ room, on my only brake from the overwhelming crying, hugging and lamenting at Walter’s wake. Of course, they would be concerned about the poor widow, about tiny curly-haired Sueli—God bless their souls. But losing Walter didn’t break me, it simply triggered a series of bad decisions and all their inevitable consequences.

Failure follows. Sometimes, a gift from our subconscious, a way of telling us no matter how much we fight, there’s nothing we can do about it—our punches will be feeble, our legs won’t run, our screams will die down.

I took the lesson to heart when I accepted that living out of charity, and other small favors, was okay, and I could get away with it. The bank foreclosed the home of our dreams, and I was forced to move into a studio in downtown São Paulo, a decaying concrete mass where the youth knows no limit, and society discards the unwanted. Beth—the friend from the funeral—and her husband kindly offered to pay the rent, I said yes. We celebrated in style. Feijoada, caipirinha, the works. We smiled, reminisced about our brief time—the four of us—helping the youth groups at the local parish. They left and never returned. Not their fault, I wasn’t much fun to hang out with, anyways. I don’t blame them, I really don’t.

Then, there’s fear.