Winter plays to put a red face all those who climb Stop after stop. The battery in my mp 3 goes on strike. The post-Christmas hangover conversation the pair of buddies who travel ahead of me hammering my head. The bus looks like a canned debate on Christmas Eve: a family quarrel between mother, an emergency exit in the middle of dinner, a barbecue binge, and children who discover that Santa Claus is Uncle Angel .... My poinsettias are not so spectacular.
The Christmas hangover from before the conversation has become a real melee between the egos of their partners.
-As it turns out they are going to rise. My uncle has moved thread and hopefully in February I will be making almost double.
-nice. To me my father stood at the end of the summer. Advantages of being the boss's son .- His smile was a sponge scrubbing the face of his friend.
Conversation longer conversation, and transformed in two speeches delivered at a time. Two issuers where I was the only receiver. The battery I miss my MP 3. At the next intersection the bus stops at the light. The timid sunlight a beautiful metallic gray color of a large Mercedes. One of those smart cars "rich man." Suddenly the couple's egocentric speech "plug" stops.
"Look at the teen slut that the grants, which leads car.
"To know how it got there, I answered the most bald.
Interestingly, and as I indulged in drawing on the window glass with the fog, my sight is lost on the striking gray car. My eyes immediately recognize those hands Marquitos fat black; the driver. It still looked alive and the frown of yore. I remember when he came to Zaragoza with his family because his father's company had gone bankrupt. What he suffered when that autumn afternoon in a traffic accident decided to leave him an orphan. How quickly matured. And up the machine shop he bought with what little was left of inheritance. As left of being in the neighborhood because their leisure time ceased to exist. As was hurting change based hand wheels and engine repair.
His dream was always to drive a Mercedes, and from the bus window I saw him riding on it. Without guys "move thread" without parents who are "your heads" ... Marquitos drives that car because it has poured hundreds of gallons of sweat to get it. "My friends" the seat in front, get the dream that hovers over their heads because his "uncle" and his "daddy" because if the accommodate. The saddest thing is that for them, "the wrestler Mark" will be the son of a bitch gray Mercedes.
That life is unfair and that bad is envy.
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