The street was dark as I closed the shelter. I went downstairs, took the keys and locked the door. I worked my way through the cold to stop. In the first bus that got passed, without inquiring into their itinerary, as many days. I sat behind the two seats occupied only in passing looked at women who occupy them, had his head turned toward the window and the reflection of glass also knew that they looked at me. Did not know so I settled calm. I coughed and opened my book as you'll read. Four stops later there were already people traveling on foot. I was aware of all movements. The last to go was an old lady who was making his way to help. When he came up to me, who came next to me gave her knee with mine and although I looked suspicious, cocked my head to warn women and ended up ceding his seat, though not without some reluctance. So I smiled as wide as I could and friendly, as he settled, I offered to hold her purse, which seemed to touch skin and a quick glance I saw that he had three zippers very accessible and otherwise be kept a bag vulgar. The woman breathed with breath so I waited a minute before handing it back. He told me he was going to see a son in prison. By little, theft, "he said sheer necessity, for their children. Went to see him once a month. It is an exemplary father, "repeated a second time. He took snuff, chocolate and some money, and pulled the bag as I told. It was a great friend of intimidation in these cases, but I ended up telling him, I think, who had two years to seek employment and three, or maybe I said four, without paying the pension of my children to my ex-wife and, in some way, "I said I understand the difficulties of life. I do not know what else I spoke to the woman who finally made a gesture and I guessed his intention down. I looked, said nothing and did not get up to help. I got off at the next stop. It was so cold I walked into a cafe packed with tough men who spoke and smoked in an unbalanced way. Site found at the bar. He could grope my pocket so I quietly slipped my hand and my fingers touched with a handful of tickets, but today seemed juicy booty. The waiter came over a pitcher of milk poured into my glass while watching the TV, a program for those of instant news, what we you while you're going or something. A reporter approached the microphone to an old woman who was crying because he had just stolen. Damn thieves! I would slice the neck if I crossed any of those! "I heard cursing the waiter now I looked into his eyes with engorged neck veins looking for my approval. The tricky thing is to recognize them, "I said calmly as I toiled to remove chocolate stains from a ticket with which I prepared to pay.
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