That’s why I told you we were like birds of ill omen, because they looked strangely at us, they remained still for a long time with their eyes fixed on us – I think it’s because all along they were hearing our conversation. I’m sure they heard when he said to me:
“We don’t have a clue, you can die and don’t even have a clue”.
“So that means we are dead?”
Things like that happen for having a big mouth, for not believing in the power of words. But I did notice when the bus began to stroll sideways like a drunkard and everybody screamed. I clearly heard the cry of a woman, that horrendous shriek of anguish, and a second later, when the bus came to a stop, I realized we had been in an accident, and the woman who had screamed so painfully was on her feet and seemed fine, and we were fine, but they must’ve heard us talking, because they kept staring at us with the strangest look you’ve ever seen.
He took me by the hand and as best as we could we climbed past the fare register and came out. The car we hit was small, but now it was completely wrinkled and compacted: it had no longer any form and you had a hard time imagining it was even a car once. I didn’t take a good look at it, because he didn’t let me, but surely he saw the blood spilt on the seat. We were already running, but not even at a distance did we stop feeling their staring gaze on us. In truth, we were like birds of ill omen.
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