52

Comunidades Rocinha woke up in the morning like a patient coming out of a coma - not so much waking up as returning to life, slowly receding from the black edge of the night, behind which is only the impenetrable darkness of eternal silence.

Even the cold glare of the wandering electric light penetrating the human anthill in the night did not brighten up the deathly lifelessness into which the communidades plunged after sunset. In fact, this swarm of fireflies, scurrying between luridly built on top of each other, half-abandoned self-made human colonies, remained the only tribute to the life that once boiled around, which remained noticeable to an outside observer. Otherwise, only the bluish Cherenkov glow of the sky on a rainy night could diversify the dreary silence of the extinct favela.

No, people still lived here, the bowl-shaped valley at the foot of Ponta das Andorinhas still enjoyed its once infamous, attracting biohackers, crypto-farmers and other rabble from all over Rio, wh
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