Short story of a return trip
Once they had got on the bus, they realised too late that they were travelling with the wrong tickets and a cruel and hopeless young driver refused to overlook it. They found themselves abandoned on an island of tarmac where fast cars screamed their strange presence.
The heat of the road rose up from their feet and exploded in their heads.
The more desperate of the two called the hotel: a brute of a man has left us in the middle of nowhere; we can’t get any water, let alone anything else, and there’s not even an inch of shade. And the sea? Too far, they couldn’t go back, she started panicking just thinking about it, pedestrians weren’t supposed to be on that formula one track, only cars and delirious bus drivers!
It was the August bank holiday, a couple were travelling along in their reliable car. The slow pace allowed them to gesticulate wildly and notice the two women, young and saturated in sun. The car drew up to them with its air of security and stopped.
And so they found shelter, they sat on the leather seats where the contact of their hot bodies on a black and shiny freshness made them gasp. They looked each other in the eye and reached out a hand, because they always did this when the waters calmed and everything was going well.
The tall one with a round face wanted to say something as if to thank them, but she didn’t feel like making conversation. It was her friend who told them something about themselves, she made stuff up, she was spontaneous, she even made her smile. She listened to her talking about her children, she saw the carefully kept photos of them again and she was surprised once again.