In that sunny Saturday, that more seemed full of black clouds, Donana cut the cake in fine slices and packed piece the piece with paper napkins, placed the torradas ones in the sachet of the bakery and accomodated everything in the bag of quitanda of the esquina. It caught its stock market, it kept to the money of the ticket in the pocket of the jeans and was for the bus point. It could see other women as, but certainly none of them there, waiting the bus, had destination of Donana the same. The bus passed a little full and a young woman, educated and with a sad look, yielded its place for that one almost obesa lady, already close to its sixty years, gasping breath. Donana thanked the gentility and was offered to take the bag of the young woman. They had been recognized in a look.
Both were the way of that hell in the Land, to fulfill with its obligations of women whom they loved. They had gone down of the bus talking. The woman seemed not to have more than forty years, but Luck that has only one son. I had four and practically created them alone with my wage of faxineira in condominiums. the young woman agreed, saying that already it had determined not to have more children. It wanted to be able to more than give a little comfort to its son, wanted that it studied, made college.
wise person very well that it could not count on the father of it. The line in the gate already was great. One to one the women entered, passed for the metal detector and waited in foot in a room. When its bag with snacks entered, alone, was revistadas, while they undressed. Nakeds, were apalpadas by an agent, who verified if they did not hide something under seios them and you bathe.