a real trip
A real trip
It was an intense goodbye. Rivers of emotion and tears flowed quickly on the faces of my parents. An almost empty train snapped at my dear beings. As mate, a blue seat guided me to my destination. Then, a child sat down beside me. His mother was in another place in the cabin, perhaps to not be bothered. She had an uneasy boy. She actually had.
Crossing looks with a couple that stay to the left, probably, father and son. Their intonation declared they were an Andalusian like me. Crossing looks, crossing travels. They were going to Jordan, and I was going to Cuba. They were from the coast, I was from the country, they were from Spanish Havana, I was from Arabic Cordoba. Crossing travels, crossing looks.
The flight was turbulent in the night, a stormy night, no doubt. Lightning said hello while we flew across the raging sky. However, we arrived sane and safely. At the airport the packing tape had no returning and the suitcases were falling down. The suitcases were dancing, and their owners huddled closer. The turmoil was great, and I laughed to try to keep myself from crying miserably. Near to the exit, two unknown men were waiting for me. They held a paper that said ” Emilio.” While we were going out, the rain was falling down, and the dancing frogs appeared from the bleak and wet corners. A very old Russian car without seatbelts took me in the direction of my lodging, a particular house, forbidden for tourists. No asphalt streets, full obscurity without any light, broken sidewalks, and almost ruined houses was the setting of the residential highclass neighborhood where I was going to sleep that night. But it was not all bad. I was happy, and tomorrow a new world was waiting for me. I was really excited and could not sleep.