The heat is relentless, the landscape is dry, it has not rained since the beginning of time and the world seems covered with a fine red powder. A harsh light distorts the shape of things, the horizon is lost in the dust. It's one of those people without a name, like so many others, a long street, a café, a lonely gas pump, a police checkpoint, lso same miserable shops and wooden houses, a school whose roof faded flag fleet by the sun. Dust and more dust. My parents have gone to the store to buy provisions of the week. Olga has been in charge of Judy and me. Nobody walks down the street, the blinds are closed, people expect to return to the cool life. My sister and Olga dozing on a bench on the porch of the store, giddy with the heat, flies harass them, but no longer defend themselves and let them walk on the face. Pervading aroma of sugar unexpected toast. Great blue and green lizards bask motionless, but when I try to catch them flee to take refuge under the houses. I'm barefoot and feel the warm earth on the soles of the feet. Oliver game, you throw a ball of cloth worn, brings me, throw it again, and so I drove away, turned a corner and find myself in a narrow alley, partly shaded by the eaves of houses rustic.
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