In 1959, Belo Horizonte was a town of traditional and prominent families. Malthus, the town's saint, was loved by its older, more religious residents. You were from one of these prominent and traditional families. your mother invited the saint over for a meeting, to discuss the destruction of the red light district. “Good morning miss” Malthus spoke with his eyes on the ground when you opened the door for him. His usual demeanor was one of nervous and awkward energy. For some odd reason he seemed like he never could look at you, and when he did there was a precarious, prey-like look in his doe eyes.