bus children description for next generation after my extinction

then we came from the beach. it was a river, but so large, and there was a soft rain and we couldn't see the bank in the other side.

i stepped out of the car. almost new car. and i hugged my older brother and my mother. no more comfort awaiting for me. and i waited for another bus. it was still raining. there were many closed bars. that day was election for mayor in the whole country and no alcohol sale was allowed. the bus stopped there in the road. i stepped inside it.

it was very loud inside. i paid for my ticket to a women carrying her small girl on her lap. then i seated myself. there were two seats, the only two that were face to face. and there were two children playing together. i guess they were brother and sister. i didn't know if they were just fighting, because they were laughing, and i couldn't understand any phrase they yelled. it would be fun just to chase each other. or bite each other, if they were baby lions. and she was wearing small dirty white boots. i only remember that because i was sitting there. they stopped playing and behaved themselves. not enough to keep her from kicking my leg while trying to keep herself quiet. it must be hard for children to not move their muscles, or not be surprised with something as unusual as a bearded young man. ok. ok. it was two seats. good enough for 4 people. and there were 3. the 4th one was a middle age man with a cardboard box. i don't remember what it held before, if it was soap or vegetable oil or food or other industrialized goods. but at that ride, there was a small dog. it seemed to be a stray dog. only because it's hard to find a pedigree inside a cardboard box. the children seemed amazed. then time came and they seemed tired and bored. and first the girl stood up and went to her father's lap.

it was so loud inside that i wasn't ashamed of playing harmonica with one hand and my normal breath. and to be tired of that and them, feel the place. outside it was raining hard and i could see nothing. i could not recognize the city. i couldn't see the high towers in the horizon. so i kept my attention inside. it was warm, but not as warm as any day in a tropical metropolis. it is normally as hot as hell, and it was just cool and damp end of afternoon. and the bus was older than the ones downtown. it was working along a route from the suburbs. actually, the beach is more than 50 km from the city. but many people along the road work in the city and the beach is a natural place for weekend. it wasn't only crowded because it was elections day and no beer was allowed. people were filling and leaving the bus, and cursing the rain. no one wants rain without an umbrella here. but some of them were just tired of another day. or resting with their eyes open. people are urban giant ants. at the bottom of the bus was a tired couple, kissing each other whilst asleep. there was christian middle age women with a lack of vanity. and then, there were none. only me, the last one to land. i asked the woman who sold me the ticket when we were near the place if i should get out. i asked it many times in that last five minutes. the last thing i said to her was "thank you" in my mother language*.

it was the end of a piece of memory. it was shortened. i didn't talk about the beach and my family, or the two girls. about my brother regretting his early madness. or my young 43 yo lawyer mother swimming with her once dry clothes after the whole of saturday with a broken cell phone, broken laptop, broken printer, broken door, a frustrating night watching "disaster movie" in a shopping center, etc. i didn't tell about the time i bought accessories for my keyboard and guitar, nor the idols for sale we saw in the stores. nor the guy who thought i wanted my mother to not pay for the car to be repaired with her credit card because i wanted a new laptop. there are many things to forget and i did forget too much from yesterday that i can't tell you any more. and what still on my mind is those two children. only them. and those memories will die before me

*it could be your language. it could be your tongue. you could shut up too as we all do, whatever language we speak